<?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-13883797</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:41:22.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I'll Never Say</title><subtitle type='html'>Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-115127436959954067</id><published>2006-06-25T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T15:26:09.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SOme days I think I'm trying to kill myself....</title><content type='html'>Ok so I worked yesterday, which typically is my day off, but since my boss is out of town, my schedual is all screwed up, because she schedualed me to be at work every day she's gone.   So I was working yesterday.  Well I showed up for my lunch shift, to find out that we were short a person (great, just f**king great).  Just about everyone there, but Kim and me were new, or incompetent people, so being the nice person I am I volenteered to take two sections of the diningroom....  Ok I'm fast so I managed to pull it off, plus I'm nice enough that if the service wasn't quite up to its usual standards the resedants at the retirement community were I work will forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so burnt out after lunch, I didn't finish all my sidework, and setting up my sections till alost 45 minutes after everyone else.  Then I had to go back to work dinner in less than an hour!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I showed up to dinner the power was out.  I couldn't start getting anything ready till it cme back on, plus its over a hundred degrees outside and the kitchen and waitarea get really hot, real fast....  Then the other opener didn't show up, so I had to scramble to get everything ready.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course we were down another person at dinner time.  Twice as much work for me. Oh joy!  Needless to say that by the end of the day I was ready to drop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then of course Megan didn't show up for lunch today.  She didn't even call in or anything.  Honestly, if you don't show up for a shift and you don't call in or anything, I thing you should be fired.  Your leaving everyone else at the shift short a person and not giving them a chance to call in someone else to take your place.  It's rude, plus because I'm prpbably the fastest worker I always end up doing twice as much work, so we can get out of there on time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go rest, I have to be back to work in a little over an hour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-115127436959954067?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/115127436959954067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=115127436959954067&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/115127436959954067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/115127436959954067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2006/06/some-days-i-think-im-trying-to-kill.html' title='SOme days I think I&apos;m trying to kill myself....'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-114937207883120755</id><published>2006-06-03T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-03T15:01:18.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Overworked</title><content type='html'>Ok I work way to many hours a week.  On an average day I wake up at 6 in the fucking morning and get ready for work.  Start may magazine job around 7.  I work my magazine job till 11, 11:30 and then rush to work at Anna Maria.  Somedays I cross my fingers and pray I don't hit any red lights so I will make it on time.  (the other day I clocked in exactly at noon.... everyone was starting to think I wasn't going to make it...) I finish at Anna Maria around 2:30 and typically go home and do the homework my teachers pilled on me, someday I have to go back and finish my magazine jod.  The at 4:30 I'm back at Anna Maria for the dinner shift.  Typically I get out of there by 7:30, but some day I swear every moron who works there is on, but me and it takes forever to get out of there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I have the weekends off, but I typically take other peoples shifts for them.  I can use the money.  I have to pay rent, insurance, power.... Honestly I am ready to collapse most day, but that's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least next weekend I'm going to see my sister and finals are soon so I won't have to worry about homework for awhile...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-114937207883120755?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/114937207883120755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=114937207883120755&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/114937207883120755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/114937207883120755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2006/06/im-overworked.html' title='I&apos;m Overworked'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-114418823886423475</id><published>2006-04-04T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T15:03:59.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life as of late</title><content type='html'>So I started school yesterday.  My first class was general psycology.  It was alright, but I hate when teachers give homework, especially when it's a stupid outline of the chapter.  At least the class doesn't seem like it will be that hard.  My next class isn't till Thursday.  I'm not sure what to expect I know nothing about any of the teachers and have no idea if they are any good.  I'm just going to cross my fingers and pray my teachers aren't boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I must go, work is calling me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-114418823886423475?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/114418823886423475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=114418823886423475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/114418823886423475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/114418823886423475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2006/04/life-as-of-late.html' title='Life as of late'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-114273892591066966</id><published>2006-03-18T19:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-18T19:28:46.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Alive</title><content type='html'>It's been a really long time since the last time I posted anything.  I moved last month and am now sharing a house with another girl.  It's cool, my house mate and I get along really well and have a lot more in common than I could have ever imagined.  Are taste in TV shows, music, and food are really similar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got another job.  I'm a waitress at a retirement community near were I live.  It's a pretty cool job.  The people I work with are really nice and we all help echother out.  Plus my boss, Megan, is really nice.  It's a really up scale place.  The restaraunt I work at inside the retirement community is a five star restaurant.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roomates boyfriend will be down a little later in the week and I'll finally get to meet the guy I'm always hearing about.  Also Robby is going to be here on the 25th.  Plus I start school on April 3rd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I better go my laundry just got done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-114273892591066966?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/114273892591066966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=114273892591066966&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/114273892591066966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/114273892591066966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2006/03/im-alive.html' title='I&apos;m Alive'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-113859629460901261</id><published>2006-01-29T20:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T20:44:54.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life as of late</title><content type='html'>Ok a lot has happened since I last posted, so I think I'll sum it all up.&lt;br /&gt;       *I went bowling on my bithday and got buzzed.  My brother throw-up.&lt;br /&gt;       *I saw the house I'll be moving it to in two weeks!  3 bedrooms, 2 bathroom, &lt;br /&gt;        livingroom, kitchen&lt;br /&gt;       *Ran all over the place with my niece and nephew&lt;br /&gt;       *I went and watched some male strippers, got my picture taken with them.&lt;br /&gt;       *Went to lunch with John&lt;br /&gt;Well that's about it.  I'm moving in two weeeks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-113859629460901261?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/113859629460901261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=113859629460901261&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113859629460901261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113859629460901261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2006/01/life-as-of-late.html' title='Life as of late'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-113686371147738750</id><published>2006-01-09T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T19:28:31.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Me</title><content type='html'>Today is my twenty-first birthday.  I spent most of my day in jury duty, what a joy (please note sarcasm).  I was even selected as a juror which means that I get to go back tomarrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home from jury duty to descover both my brother and sister sick and the headache I got this afternoon has only been getting worse and I feel like I'm going to throw up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus my family and everyone is over and I'm sitting at the computure and all I really want is to go to bed.  Well I should go....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-113686371147738750?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/113686371147738750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=113686371147738750&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113686371147738750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113686371147738750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2006/01/happy-birthday-me.html' title='Happy Birthday Me'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-113514197651885531</id><published>2005-12-20T20:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T21:12:56.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TWINS!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>My sister-in-law is pregnat with twins!!!  Yeah! Twin girls!  Double YEAH!!  I'm so happy!  Plus my oldest sister is pregnat with her third child, so in May when both are due I will have two more nieces and I'm not sure about the third.  That means that in May I will have six nieces/nephews.  Life is grand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note Jim is in town.  I haven't actually seen him yet, I'm been busy.  Yesterday I worked from around 6 to 2 or so.  Then I pulled down all my families Christmas decorations and decorated the house.  Next I cleaned the bathroom.  Families coming for Christmas and my siblings are worthless for cleaning.  So to take the lode off of my mother I've been cleaning in my spare time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was sappose to call Jim when I got off work, but my mom was going to search for a gift for my father and sense I didn't have a gift for my father I joined her.  My brother joined us and helped me pick out some tool...  So now I have a present for my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all I need to do is go see my dear friend Amamda and give her, her Christmas present.  Oh, and make some banana nut bread for Jim, the bananas just aren't getting brown fast enough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm sick of typing, so I'm done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-113514197651885531?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/113514197651885531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=113514197651885531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113514197651885531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113514197651885531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/12/twins.html' title='TWINS!!!!!!'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-113314003769532596</id><published>2005-11-27T16:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T17:07:17.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back in Town</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I got back from visiting my sister in Sacramento.  I had a great week.  It was nice to just forget everything for awhile, but now I have three paper due this week and my final English paper is due on December 5, so it's going to be a busy next couple of days.  Plus since I didn't get a magazine delivery last Friday, it will be coming on Monday.  Well I'm going to forget that for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I worked my butt off all morning to get all the magazines on the shelves so I would still have time to make a pumpkin pie for my family before I went to English class at 3 o'clock.  As soon as my English class was over I left for Sacramento.  It was a long drive.  I didn't make it to my sister apartment till almost midnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday we drove to the Winchester Mystery House.  It was so cool.  If I had tons of money I would so put doors in my house that opened to nothing, or opened to a two story drop.  Thirteen was her favorite number.  There were 13 bathrooms (but only one shower).  Rooms with 13 coat hangers, 3 or 4 would be in normal spots, but then you would open up a cupboard or closet and find 10 or 9 more.  There was one room with 13 windows, one of which looked into the bathroom.  If your ever in San Jose you should really go to the Winchester Mansion it's so neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I spent all morning making anything I could ahead of time for Thanksgiving, plus a Peanut Butter Cream Pie for the Prayer Praise, and Pie we were going to that night.  Then headed over to my sister Marci's house.  I spent most of the day jumping on the trampaleen with my nephew and niece.  My niece never has clothes on.  She wears like 7 different outfits a day, each one only stays on like five minutes before she strips and starts running around naked again.  She had paint stains all over her underwear.  How she got paint stains all over her underwear i don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The saddest thing was when my nephew asked why we weren't going over there for Thanksgiving.  I didn't want to burden a 9 year old with the fact that his mom was mad at his aunt.  Alex being as smart as he is (plus his mom always talks in front of him) figured it out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on the phone with jimmy, I'll finish this later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-113314003769532596?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/113314003769532596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=113314003769532596&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113314003769532596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113314003769532596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/11/im-back-in-town.html' title='I&apos;m Back in Town'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-113238175673134856</id><published>2005-11-18T22:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T22:29:16.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixed Emotions</title><content type='html'>Well a memory from the past showed up today.  Wayne is back in town.  I went out with him once, but it was bad timing and he was only in town for a week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy got in a car accident the day bafore are first date.  I was to worried about Jimmy to enjoy myself.  The last I'd heared before I left for my date was Jimmy was going to get a hole drilled in his head to relieve pressure.  Needless to say I had to many things on my mind to realise how great he was.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our date was great.  We got ice cream cones and walked on the beach, got mexican food, and saw a play.  It was fabulous.  Plus, Wayne is really cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have his number sitting up on my dresser and I think I'll give him a call tomarrow.  The only problem is he's probably only in town for a little while and I'm heading to Sacramento, monday.  Before then I have two papers to write, Three pies to make, a house to help clean, a couple of jobs; which means I don't really have any spare time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I think I'll call him anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-113238175673134856?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/113238175673134856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=113238175673134856&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113238175673134856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113238175673134856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/11/mixed-emotions.html' title='Mixed Emotions'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-113229521209982796</id><published>2005-11-17T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T22:26:52.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year</title><content type='html'>Today is one year to the day from when my family recieved that fateful phone call that told us my grandfather was in the hospital and that he probably wouldn't make it.  He died two days later.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanskgiving is my favorite holiday, but last year it was a couple of days after my grandfather passed on and the day before his funeral.  This year my uncle is lying in the hospital after a massive heart attack, around half his heart was destroyed.  Last I heard he'd woken up, but with so much of his heart destroyed he probably won't last long.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been crying on and off all day.  I went to Medford this morning and visited with my grandmother.  My mother and I went to the cemetery with her to visit my grandfather's grave.  I'd never been their before, my grandfather didn't want a depressing funeral at a cemetery.  That just wasn't his style.  He wanted all the liqure to be drank.  So my uncle played bartender and mixed drinks.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my grandfather so much.  He was great.  Not only did he invited me and all my friends to stay with him while we were in Medford, but he gave not only me $20 to spend, but my four friends as well.  He was always doing stuff like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was sad to see one of those flat tombstomes with his name carved into it, it seemed unreal.  I just cried there, I don't think I could have said anything if I'd tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what's on my grandfather's tombstone:&lt;br /&gt;John Read Hulbert&lt;br /&gt;Lt. US Army&lt;br /&gt;WWII&lt;br /&gt;November 28, 1922- November 20, 2004&lt;br /&gt;Loving Husband and Father&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-113229521209982796?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/113229521209982796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=113229521209982796&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113229521209982796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113229521209982796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/11/one-year.html' title='One Year'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-113047822167208134</id><published>2005-10-27T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T22:43:41.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the good, the bad, and the ugly</title><content type='html'>Alright my life this week has been full of a bunch of ups and downs.  One moment everything is great, the next everything seems to be going wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started Tuesday.  My dear friend Audrey and I went up to Ashland to see a brillant play called the Belle's Strategem.  It's about this women, Letitia Hardy, who meets the man she has been promised to marry, Doricourt, who she is madly in love with, but he is indefferent to her.  The problem is Letitia wants Doricourt to love her as much as she loves him, so she sets out to make him hate her, because hate is earier to turn into love, than indifference.  There were several halarious senes in the play where she acted like an idiot (and she hid under her own skirt).  Then she dresses up at the masquerade and makes Doricourt fall madly in love with her, but she refuses to show him her face.  The next day Letitia's father pretends to be dying and Doricourt is tricked into marrying Letitia.  Then Letitia shows up in her disques from the masquerade and reveals her face.  Well you know the end, they live happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we watched the play then went to the Family Fun Center and acted like a couple of kids and played some games and road in the go carts.  It was a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we began the drive back home.  It started to rain.  Most of the road back if curves.  Oh and did I mention that there are rock slides all the time and this was the first real rain of the season?  Needless to say the drive back, was not fun.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stopped at the rest stop so Audrey could use the bathroom.  Someone had smoked in the bathroom and when she got back into the car she smelled like cigaretts.  Neither of us smoke and we were both gaging.  It was so bad that we rolled down the windows (even though it was raining).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course by this time it is dark and raining.  I'm going around 30mph (typically I go much faster).  I go around a corner and there are rocks completey across the road!  Off course there is no where to pull over to check if there is any damage.  As soon as I get a chance I pulled off the road and one of my tires was flat!  Of course it was pouring down rain and I go to get my flash light and it doesn't work!  Then I had to wonder around in the rain for a while trying to get cell service.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I was able to get help and Audrey and I made it home safe, sound and soking wet.  The nice thing is Audrey isn't the kind of person to freak out, so it was kinda fun being stranded with her.  The bad thing is that I wasn't able to get back in time to finish working product.  So I had to wake up bright and early on Wednesday to work.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was at the last store my key broke off in the ignition of my car!  I just sat there stunned just staring at the half of a key in my hand.  Luckily my brother way able to get the piece of the key out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All together for new tires and whatever the name of the part is called were you put the key to start it will cost me just under $400.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well things got better today when I took my sign language midterm.  I was really worried, because I hadn't been to class for a while do to illness and a flat tire.  I had no trouble with the test, I walked out of class feeling great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I must go, it's getting late!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-113047822167208134?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/113047822167208134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=113047822167208134&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113047822167208134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/113047822167208134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/10/good-bad-and-ugly.html' title='the good, the bad, and the ugly'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112986318438727333</id><published>2005-10-20T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-20T19:53:04.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lately I Think God Loves Me</title><content type='html'>I haven't really talked about all the good luck I've been having lately.  I've been afraid that I might jinx it if I said anything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First I need an apartment to move into in a couple of months when I move.  BAM I have a place to stay.  &lt;br /&gt;Ok, so then I needed a job.  Well then I was told that when I move, I'll have a job working for Anderson News.  &lt;br /&gt;Next, I'm at the gym and I met the coolest girl, Alicia, and she loves to hike.  Hiking is one of my favorit pass times, but I wont go hiking by myself.&lt;br /&gt;Plus tonight my boss form Frozen Gormet called and I gave my two week notice!  That means that in two weeks, I will never have to go into a freezer again!  Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is just falling into place.  Life is grand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112986318438727333?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112986318438727333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112986318438727333&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112986318438727333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112986318438727333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/10/lately-i-think-god-loves-me.html' title='Lately I Think God Loves Me'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112941699759440226</id><published>2005-10-15T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T15:56:37.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate Computers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>I just spent an eternity typing a post and the power flashed and it's gone!  AAaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!  I am way to lazy to retype it, plus I have no idea what I said.  I'm going to go make myself a batch of pudding and eat the entire thing.  Screw you nature!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112941699759440226?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112941699759440226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112941699759440226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112941699759440226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112941699759440226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-hate-computers.html' title='I hate Computers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112926777684673423</id><published>2005-10-13T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T22:29:36.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, I'm a bad blogger</title><content type='html'>Well it's been a while since I last blogger.  I guess I'm kind of a crappy blogger.  Well here's a quick sums up of what I can remember from since I blogged last:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. October 1st was my nephews birthday.  I wondered through the woods for hours with my niece and nephew.  My nephew is a child after my own heart.  He has no fear, he will climb anything and try anything.  My niece is scared of her own child and kind of a spaz.  She's scared of something one moment and wants to play with it or look at it the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I got a painting.  Ok this is going to sound wired, but my dad's ex-wife's mother painted it.  She passed on last month, so at my nephew's birthday they were also clearing out her house.  She was a talented woman, she painter, quilted, sowed, etc.  The painting is of red roses climbing up a mail box.  I feel like it was made for me, because when I got home and went to hang it up, I discovered it was painted the year I was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  My sister showed up, it was kind of creepy.  We were talking about her and she showed up... could she hear us all the way in Sacramento...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I decided I would rather sleep than go to PoliSci.  Missing the class this once wouldn't kill me.  Later that night when I went to my ECE Class I noticed a note on the door that said PoliSci had been canceled.  God loves me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that's all I can remember.  Today I went to the orthodontist and the periodontist.  Then I spent an hour at the dentists office waiting for my grandmother.  I drove her so she wouldn't have to drive herself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it's late, I'm tiered and I have to get up in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;TTFN&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112926777684673423?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112926777684673423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112926777684673423&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112926777684673423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112926777684673423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/10/wow-im-bad-blogger.html' title='Wow, I&apos;m a bad blogger'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112815046237012993</id><published>2005-09-30T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T00:07:42.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The dermatologist, Way To Much Work and Conversations With Random Strangers</title><content type='html'>Today I went to the dermatologist.  I have eczema.  No big deal, I was pretty sure I had it anyway.  For those of you out there who don't know what that is here is my description: It's dry, red, flaky patches of skin that itch.  I get it all the time on my arms and I think it's so gross.  I was given some cream to help get rid of the disgusting patches when they start appearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was kind of worried I wouldn't get anything for the disgusting red patches since I don't have any right now.  You see my appointment was made three months ago when I had four of five patches.  But when I started to describe what had brought me to the dermatologist, my dermatologist finished my description and gave my some cream.  My dermatologist is a frekkin genius!  No more eczema, yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only problem is that I work Friday mornings and since I went to the dermatologist instead of starting around 7 I started around 10, so I had next to no time between the two jobs I had to work today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent what little time I had with my niece and nephew.  My niece can almost say my name!  She has a bit of a speech problem, but then again so do I.  She use to call me Pleen, but slowly she starting to say my name right.  Plus my nephew's birthday is tomorrow, he'll be nine years old.  We're having a party for him tomorrow.  I can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could have spent more time with them, but I had to go to work, were I had conversations with random strangers.  Random stranger 1 was this old lady who came into the theater to by a popcorn and proceeded to tell me her life story.  I know that she has a son and is divorced.  That when she got divorced that her husband and her didn't fight, they just split everything evenly.  I also learned that one time she got short changed once by five dollars and a million other useless facts.  Random stranger 2 name was Scott and he got back from Iraq a few months ago.  His girlfriend's daughter is performing in a play tonight and she's an alligator and has 49 lines.  I also learned that he likes the theater and other useless facts.  The most amazing thing about my conversation with Scott was I never felt like he was hitting on me, which doesn't happen often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the other year I have never just passed over a conversation with some random stranger, because you never know when they will touch your life somehow.  When I first started at the theater this old guy Ken came in all the time.  He watched a movie every week and would come in a couple of times a week, just to buy popcorn.  He was always smiling and telling jokes and talking to us.  He built a couple of model ships that are up in the theater.  Then one week we hadn't seen him for a while.  So, Audrey stoped by his house to check on him.  She found him dead.  A cop showed up at the theater to talk to her.  Audrey started crying and I was on the verge of tears the entire night.  For weeks after wards I kept expecting him to come into the theater, but of course he never came.  We were more of a family to him than his own family.  I miss him, even now when he's been gone for three years.  It's strange how certain people can effect your life.  I'm reminded of something I once heard, "Some people come into our lifes and quickly go, but others stay awhile and leave footprints on our hearts and we are never, ever the same again."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112815046237012993?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112815046237012993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112815046237012993&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112815046237012993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112815046237012993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/09/dermatologist-way-to-much-work-and.html' title='The dermatologist, Way To Much Work and Conversations With Random Strangers'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112802435043693868</id><published>2005-09-29T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T13:15:02.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>English</title><content type='html'>Well I got my English paper back yesterday.  I was thrilled when I saw I got an "A."  The assignment wasn't really that hard, but I just never like anything I write.  I always think that I did bad, but I always do good.  That bugs me.  I'm just weird.  Sometimes I wonder, if I had gotten a worse grade, would I have been happier?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I write something quickly and I know I could have done so much better, I'm mad when I get a good grade.  I'm happy I'm doing well in the class, but at the same time I am upset, because I know I am not living up to my potential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here's my English paper, I think it's pretty good, but you can decide for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CJ&lt;br /&gt;September 21, 2005&lt;br /&gt;English 1B&lt;br /&gt;639 Words&lt;br /&gt;Nothing Gold Can Stay&lt;br /&gt; In 1923 Robert Frost wrote the poem "Nothing Gold Can Stay"  It's a short poem, only eight lines long, yet for being so short it contains so much meaning.  Robert Frost's poem uses metaphors and pictorial description to present a deeper meaning.   "Nothing Gold Can Stay," illustrates how nothing can stay young and pure.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The poem begins with the line "Nature's first green is gold."  Green is the color associated with spring.  Spring is the time of new life and growth, which typically symbolizes youth and the beginning of life.  "Green is gold," appears to mean that youth is precious like gold.  It is the "hardest hue to hold" because it lasts such a little while (2).  Time passes by and things change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; These same ideas are presented again in line three when the poem states, "her early leaf is a flower."  Again the reader is presented with a metaphor of youth.  Anyone who has seen leaves first appear knows that the earliest leaves unfold like flowers, but they are still just leaves.  It is only when they are first seen that they resemble flowers, which like gold is something precious and beautiful.  "But only so an hour," because after that the leaves open up, they are just leaves (4).  The beauty or the thought of it as a flower is gone, like youth and innocence fade as we get older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Again this idea is demonstrated in line five, "Then leaf subsides to leaf."  The immature leaves on a tree are replaced by advancing leaves.  Robert Frost could have used something other than a leaf in his poem, but he did not.  The fact that leaves change, their color darkens and they are eaten by bugs and in autumn they will fall off the tree is a powerful message.  Humans also change as we get older.  A person starts out as a perfect leaf, resembling a flower, but as time goes on a person is changed by the world around them and like the leaf will eventually fall off the tree, or in other words they will die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Imagery of leaves and nature is left behind for a powerful biblical reference in the poem.  The fall of leaves is compared to the fall of humanity, "So Eden sank to grief" (6).  Eden is the paradise first created for man by God, but when Adam and Eve eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil they are driven from paradise.  "Eden" is a powerful representation of the beginning of life (6).  It is the beginning of not just any world, but a perfect world that after a while is corrupted.     In the same way a baby is born innocent and pure, but as time goes by and the baby grows up and is exposed to the harshness of reality or "grief" (6).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Eden sank to grief" is the same as "dawn goes down to day" in line 7 (6).  Dawn, the earliest period of the day, is said to "go down to day" instead of starts the day or goes up to day.  This adds an unexpected touch, because like "grief," "day" is given a negative context, because of the word "down" (6 and 7).  When something is looked down upon, it is seen negatively.  So once the sunshine begins the day, it is all down hill from there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Nothing gold can stay" is the final line of the poem (8).  Innocence, youth, and perfection do not last.  After a while they fade away.  This idea is paralleled throughout the poem: gold is green; flower is leaf; Eden is grief; and dawn goes down to day.  The world is ever changing and nothing can stay young and pure forever.  Robert Frost's "Nothing Gold Can Stay" is a powerful poem that shows that innocence and youth can not remain forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112802435043693868?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112802435043693868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112802435043693868&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112802435043693868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112802435043693868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/09/english.html' title='English'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112743946001653691</id><published>2005-09-22T18:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-23T21:46:37.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cats died left and right</title><content type='html'>In sign language the other night we did these conversation exercises.  Well we only know a little bit of sign language which really limits what we can say.  So John signed I like to eat cats and dogs, which lead to a number of conversations about killing and eating cats.  Poor imaginary cats, they didn't have a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to write about some other things, but I tooks some pills to help clear up my stuffed up nose and I am really drowsy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112743946001653691?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112743946001653691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112743946001653691&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112743946001653691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112743946001653691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/09/cats-died-left-and-right.html' title='Cats died left and right'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112733926691441020</id><published>2005-09-21T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T18:38:00.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is grand</title><content type='html'>Life has been going great lately.  Jen and me swapped role in are relationship, for the last few months she's been comforting me and telling me what I needed to hear to feel better while all the crap was going on in my life and me and long time friend went are separate ways.  Now I'm the one giving her comfort and it's kinda nice.  I feel like I'm repaying the favor.  I wish she wasn't going through all the crap she's been dealing with recently, but at the same time it's kind of nice to know other people have problems too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I'm picking up sign language really well and have gotten A's on all of my quizzes.  Plus yestarday to practice signing numbers we played bingo and I won!!  I don't think I've ever won a game of bingo in a class before in my entire life.  Plus my teacher gave me a $5 certificate to Buddy's Cafe for winning!!!  Yeah!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also on Saturday I found the cutest pair of boots that actually fit.  Boots never fit me.  I wear a size 9 1/2 wide.  Most boots are really narrow or they float off my legs.  So finding a pair of boots is a huge deal for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus I just finished my first english paper and I don't completely hate it.  I hate most of the things I write, but I actually think I did a good job with this paper.  This worries me a bit, because most of the time i hate my papers and do good.  Does that mean that if I life my paper I will do bad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my english class is calling so I must go and turn my paper in.  Have a great day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112733926691441020?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112733926691441020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112733926691441020&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112733926691441020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112733926691441020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/09/life-is-grand.html' title='Life is grand'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112632888524150990</id><published>2005-09-09T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T22:08:05.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Relief</title><content type='html'>Last night I was thrilled to hear from Jimmy.  With everything going on down in the Gulf I was a bit worried about him.  I was a lot more worried about him than I admitted to anyone.  I didn't even realized how worried I'd been till he told me he was on his way back to Alaska.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was glad he was down there helping, but at the same time I didn't want him to be there.  Selfish, I know.  I wanted him out of harms way.  I wish I could have gone down there and helped myself, but I couldn't.  I'm proud of Jimmy.  He helped a lot of people and did a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to talk about everything he told me over the phone.  It's not my place and it's none of your business.  But I pray he never has to pull a gun on anyone ever again.  It would be that way in a perfect world, but this isn't a perfect world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112632888524150990?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112632888524150990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112632888524150990&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112632888524150990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112632888524150990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/09/relief.html' title='Relief'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112596202615015518</id><published>2005-09-05T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T16:13:46.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Well...</title><content type='html'>I heard from Matt.  He's safe and sound.  It was nice to hear from him, it's the first time I've talked to him in almost a month.  I was starting to think he'd droped of the face of the earth, but instead he was on a ship in the middle of the ocean.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that's I'll I'm going to write for now.  I have pies and other delicious things to make.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112596202615015518?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112596202615015518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112596202615015518&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112596202615015518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112596202615015518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/09/well.html' title='Well...'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112570891701457833</id><published>2005-09-02T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T10:39:05.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hurricane katrina</title><content type='html'>Jimmy's in the disaster zone.  They sent him there earlier this week.  I didn't get to talk to him, I was at work.  My dad talked to him for a bit.  He hasn't seen any news reports or anything and he doesn't really know what is going on.  He's finding it hard to stay detached from the people he's helping.  It's got to be taking it's toll on him.  I feel for him and I wish I could have talked to him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do like Jimmy and I pray he's ok.  This is really going to fuck him up if he can't stay detached.  At least he's helping.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't heard from Matt lately and I keep wondering if he's there too.  I just don't know.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a link to Help those who have been effected by &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/08/31/AR2005083101758.html?referrer=email"&gt;hurricane katrina&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112570891701457833?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112570891701457833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112570891701457833&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112570891701457833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112570891701457833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/09/hurricane-katrina.html' title='hurricane katrina'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112550972043789955</id><published>2005-08-31T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T10:35:20.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the beginning of a beautiful day</title><content type='html'>I woke up and rushed to my Political Science Class.  It was a fun and interesting class, I would expect nothing less from Tom Owen.  He's one of my favorite teachers and I've taken six classes with him already.  He only teaches one more class that I haven't taken.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my U.S. History class he said that if you're ever in New York you need to go to Fraunes Tavers and order a Samuel Adams.  It's a history thing.  I had Jimmy do this when he was in New York (he was also in the history class) and he gave me the receipt to give to Tom Owen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave Tom the receipt today.  You could tell it made his day.  He looked so happy.  He told me he was going to hook the receipt up on the wall of his office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made my day seeing how happy it made him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112550972043789955?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112550972043789955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112550972043789955&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112550972043789955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112550972043789955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/its-beginning-of-beautiful-day.html' title='It&apos;s the beginning of a beautiful day'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112543043531795618</id><published>2005-08-30T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T12:33:55.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School</title><content type='html'>Well school started yesterday. Oh joy (please not sarcasm).  Well so far I've only been to English 1B.  I have it with Judy, Colin and Brooke which is nice.  I have had classes with Colin since like junior year oh high school and we get along well, plus I know his name.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also nice to see Judy.  We both work so much that we almost never see each other anymore.  We really aren't that close anymore.  I can see so many of my friends slipping away, it's sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what I think about English.  The teacher seems nice, but I don't really like English classes.  I can't spell and I hate having other people read what I write.  Plus I don't like reading and correcting other peoples essays.  I'm just not good at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I don't have to do any more get to know you exercises in my classes, they are so lame and remind me of high school.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of my own stupidity I missed the first day of my POLSC 1 class.  I thought it was at night, but then when I looked at my schedule it was in the morning, oops.  I doubt that the teacher will drop me for missing the first day, I've had a million classes with him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a few hours I have to go to American Sign Language.  I'm really excited about this class.  I've wanted to take sign language for years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other classes I'm taking could change depending on weather I get into oceanography or not, so I'll talk about them later if I still have them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112543043531795618?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112543043531795618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112543043531795618&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112543043531795618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112543043531795618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112524845339285020</id><published>2005-08-28T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T10:00:53.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow the summer is over</title><content type='html'>I can't believe school starts tomorrow.  The summer seems like it has gone on forever and it's really hard to believe that I actually have class tomorrow.  I didn't take any classes during the summer break this time so it's been almost three and a half months since I've been to a class.  I don't think it's truly hit me that I'll be sitting in a class room tomorrow, I don't think it will sink in till I'm sitting in class, looking out the window wishing I was outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still working three jobs.  Two merchandising jobs and my job at the theater.  If I can handle it I'll keep all three, if not I'll put in my two week notice with Frozen Gourmet.  I'm planning on getting rid of that job before I visit my sister in Sacramento anyway.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to go back to school, I'm just not in the mood, but I know I have to go.  If I don't go I can't become a teacher.  Well that's life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I hope to see some of you at school tomorrow!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112524845339285020?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112524845339285020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112524845339285020&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112524845339285020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112524845339285020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/wow-summer-is-over.html' title='Wow the summer is over'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112492879549377768</id><published>2005-08-24T16:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-26T21:51:44.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those Days</title><content type='html'>I went to see a counselor at 10 o'clock this morning at the college.  I was almost late, actually I was late for my appointment it was only out of dumb luck that the counselor was later.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother and I work up at the exact same time, so I told him he could have the bathroom first.  That was a mistake.  He was in there forever.  By the time I got into the bathroom I had five minutes till I needed to leave.  I took a really quick show and headed out late.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived at the college a few minutes after 10.  Luckily the counselor were in a meeting so my counselor, Becky, arriver a minute after me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'd known she was the female counselor I'd gone to before I wouldn't have made an appointment with her.  It's not that she's rude, she just seems rushed and only gives you the minimal amount of help.  I was going to Samuel, who was really nice and helpful.  He always seemed to go way above and beyond.  He was helping me find out information on the different bachelor degrees I could get and which ones are preferred by the college if you're going into the teaching program.  Well Samuel is no longer a counslor at the college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went to Becky.  She's not very helpful and I kept getting this feeling she wasn't really listening.  It seemed like she was in a hurry to get me out of there.  All together it wasn't a very productive meeting.  I thanked her after a bit and left.  Next time I'll try the other counslor.  Hopefully the other counsler will be more helpful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112492879549377768?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112492879549377768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112492879549377768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112492879549377768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112492879549377768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of those Days'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112439918759994779</id><published>2005-08-18T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T14:08:45.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Are All Mortal And Will One Day Die...</title><content type='html'>In six months I will most likely be at Southern Oregon State University.  I don't think most people understand why I decided to go there and not somewhere else.  I thought about going to a college over near D.C. or some other place that is far away from where I grew up, but what finally made me decide to go to SOSU was my grandfathers death and one other thing I don't plan on talking about.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Thanksgiving my grandfather past on leaving my grandmother alone.  My grandmother lives a two hour drive or more from where I am right now.  If something happened...  I don't want to think about that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I go to SOSU I'll be near to where she is.  I can check in on her, help her run her errands, bring her to her doctor appointments... give my family some peace of mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandmother told me the most teriffying thing the other day.  A blood vessal burst in her leg.  She was bleeding all over the place and drove herslf to the hospital, were they were able to stop the bleeding.  Thank God.  She's alright, but she said that it didn't hurt at all and if it had happened while she was sleeping she probably whould have bleed to death.  That's a terrifying thought, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother and I have driven up to see her quite a few times in the last few months.  We run her errands so she doesn't have to drive and help her out any way we can,but I worry about her.  She is so close, but so far away.  I'm going to see her this weekend and I just can't help but thingking: &lt;em&gt;we are all mortal and will on day die...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112439918759994779?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112439918759994779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112439918759994779&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112439918759994779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112439918759994779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/we-are-all-mortal-and-will-one-day-die.html' title='We Are All Mortal And Will One Day Die...'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112432448755167245</id><published>2005-08-17T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T17:23:28.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Shit</title><content type='html'>Here is a Meme I got off my dear friend Amanda's blog that was inspired by ICP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personaly I had no idea who the ICP (aka the Insane Clown Posse) are, but this Meme is inspired by their song "I want my shit". &lt;br /&gt;I guess this song is a tragic tale of an old fellow who is a self proclaimed "Juggalo", who suffers from Immortality:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way out they're like, "Yo, ain't you like 100 and something?"&lt;br /&gt;I said, "That's right, and I ain't gonna die,&lt;br /&gt;'TILL I GET MY SHIT, MOTHERFUCKER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanda's Blog informed me that his "Shit" includes the following items:&lt;br /&gt;an axe that is rusted, to learn the mystical craft of Voodoo, the companionship of an overweight woman named Bridgette, who happens to be ill-tempered, and a sip of a cheap carbonated beverage called "Faygo"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the question is - What is my shit? What do I want out of life before I die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I want to go to Germany- Ride bikes down the Romantic Road with the man I love, see the Passion in Oberammergau, go to Neuschwanstein...&lt;br /&gt;2. I want to have children- rock a crying baby in my arms, be pregnant, be a mother.... &lt;br /&gt;3. I want to see an Opera. &lt;br /&gt;4. I want to say 'Ilove you' and mean it with all of my heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay there's my shit.  What is your shit?  I want to know what four things you want to have before you die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a 'list' of things I'd like to do before I die and the things I listed above are the most important four.  Maybe tomarrow when i have a little more time I'll post my complete list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TTFN&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112432448755167245?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112432448755167245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112432448755167245&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112432448755167245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112432448755167245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/my-shit.html' title='My Shit'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112405630454130824</id><published>2005-08-14T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-14T14:51:44.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Embarrassment and Cookies</title><content type='html'>So today I went to church, it was the first Sunday since VBS.  I was in charge of VBS and planned most of it, but I wasn't the only person doing thing, but everyone kept acting like I did something amazing.  Everyone kept telling me I did such a great job with VBS and thanking me and everything.  It was really embarrassing.  I don't like attention drawn to myself most of the time.  The weekly bulletin even said thank you.  Then when Lorry got up in front of the church do a special presentation on VBS she thanked me and everyone applauded.  I turned bright red and wished I could disappear.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People don't understand that I don't really like being the center of attention.  I mean it's nice to be thanked, but I don't want a big deal made out of stuff.  Most of the time I avoid big groups and when I have to be in large groups I act like it doesn't bug me, but it does.  I was really happy when I got to flee the church building and go over and teach Sunday School.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I brought all the extra cookies from VBS to Sunday School.  I let the kids decorate them.  Each kid got to eat one, the rest were decorated and brought out for the congregation to have.  Michael piled his cookies around an inch thick with frosting, M&amp;M's and chocolate chips.  He got frosting all overhimself.  Then again Michael always seems to have something all over himself.  He's one of those kids that seems to attract messes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I must go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112405630454130824?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112405630454130824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112405630454130824&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112405630454130824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112405630454130824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/embarrassment-and-cookies.html' title='Embarrassment and Cookies'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112399708507748515</id><published>2005-08-13T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-13T22:24:45.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a good day</title><content type='html'>It's been a pretty good day today.  I got to sleep in today which I haven't done in weeks.  It was nice to just lie in bed for a while and not have to worry about being anywhere or getting anything done.  It was bliss.  Sometimes the simple things in life are the most wonderful.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a bit upset with Dee this morning.  See I woke up around nine thinking no one was home, but around noon I heard someone in the shower.  Well around 12:30 Dee comes down and I was a bit confused because I thought she was horse back riding with Blondie.  It ends up her schedule changed on Friday so she wasn't able to go horse back riding with blondie.  She never even called to tell her or anything I thought that was really rude on her part.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what bugged me even more was Blondie was offered a ride back to where she lives (about an hour drive from here) with our aunt and uncle on Friday, but this was declined because she wanted to go riding with Dee on Saturday.  I didn't mind bringing Blondie home, but it would have been nice to know yesterday that Dee wasn't going to go riding to save me gas.  Gas is like liquid gold these days you know.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bringing Blondie home was pretty fun.  The Blackberry Festival was going on.  I was a bit disappointed, there weren't any blackberries anywhere.  I mean its a Blackberry Festival, you would think someone would be selling blackberry pie or jelly or something, but no I didn't see no blackberries.  What kind of blackberry festival has no blackberries?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was neat, blondie and I walked up and down the street looking at all the booths.  I bought a necklace for me and one for blondie.  I also got this really cool dragon that's wrapped around a drop of glass.  I can't think of how to describe it, but trust me it's a cute little dragon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met some of Blondie's friends, you see where she lives is an even smaller town than where I live and you know like everyone.  The Blackberry Festival is like the 4th of July here, it's a huge event.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked and hung out with Blondie a lot this week it was fun.  We are almost seven years apart, but as you get older age differences just don't seem as big.  I talked to her about somethings that it seemed like no one got.  I told her how I felt about Jimmy and she seemed to understand.  She didn't try to offer me advice or push me in one direction or the other.  It was so nice, she just agreed with me and said she would feel the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny a couple of years ago Blondie was just an annoying little kid, but now she's pretty cool and I get along with her well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112399708507748515?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112399708507748515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112399708507748515&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112399708507748515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112399708507748515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/its-been-good-day.html' title='It&apos;s been a good day'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112389254492665007</id><published>2005-08-12T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-12T17:22:24.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no post</title><content type='html'>I have just not had the time to post lately.  Life has been one big rush.  It's been fun, but busy.  VBS(Vacation Bible School) was this week, so besides my jobs I have been helping out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I have more time I'll write more about VBS, probably when I get the picture so i can put some up.  All in all it went really well besides a few misshapes.  The kids had a lot of fun, which is the important part.  I'm glad it's over, I need a break, but at the same time I'll miss a lot of the little kids.  A couple of kids asked me for my phone number.  One little girl, Gracey, was asking her mom if she could call me tomarrow, she was so cute.  It's little kids like her that make me want to be a teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hung out with my cousin Blondie a lot this week, I'll write more about that later too.  Well I must go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112389254492665007?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112389254492665007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112389254492665007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112389254492665007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112389254492665007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/long-time-no-post.html' title='Long time no post'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112330859692099321</id><published>2005-08-05T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-06T22:39:01.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiking, An Apology, MRE....</title><content type='html'>Well Thursday was just as long as every other day.   I woke up at seven in the morning, because Jimmy was picking me up at eight to go hiking.  We hiked for around eight hours.  It was great.  I love to hike.  I'm just not stupid enough to go hiking by myself.  As I'm pretty sure I've said before I'm 5'4" and a 106 pounds and I feel like I had the words please attack me written all over me.  So I only go hiking if I have one or more people.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Jimmy and me went hiking.  We went up this trail I had been on before, but hadn't gone very far on.  It was really beautiful there were tons of wild flowers and dragonfly.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a break for lunch in Summit Valley.  Jimmy brought and MRE and had me try it.  It was ok, definitely not something I would choose to eat on a regular bases, but ok.  I learned some interesting things about MREs...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really surprised me was I got an apology.  A real honest to God apology from Jimmy for how he had acted last time he was in town and how he treated me.  I hadn't expected that.  It was all I really wanted, but I didn't expect to get a real apology.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have been pretty good between Jimmy and I these last couple of days.  It's been nice.  We talked a lot while we were hiking.  He told me I needed to get a life.  Not in a bad way or anything.  Honestly, I don't have time to have a life.  I'm working three part time jobs, planning VBS and trying not to break down.  My idea of a day off is Wednesday when I only work one job.  I'm exhausted most of the time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would think putting out magazines is easy, but I'm moving around 40pound crates.  On Friday it took me almost nine hours to put out all the magazines.  I had twenty crates at Walmart alone!  Plus I get all these stupid magazines that don't even have a spot and I had no idea what to do with them!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I barely finished putting out all the magazines to go to the fair and see Mark Chesnutt and Miranda Lambert.  I barely have time to even sleep these days, let alone go out into the world and deal with people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112330859692099321?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112330859692099321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112330859692099321&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112330859692099321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112330859692099321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/hiking-apology-mre.html' title='Hiking, An Apology, MRE....'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112316757627632419</id><published>2005-08-04T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T07:59:36.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need rest, but I know I won't get it...</title><content type='html'>My orthadantist appointment was on Tuesday not on Wednesday like I thought.  So at 4 in the morning on Tuesday my sister and I were driving up to our orthadantist appointments.  The good thing about this is I got my car a day earlier, but bad because I didn't get to start putting the magazines out till late.&lt;br /&gt;I got back into town and went straight to work.  I worked from around 10:30 to 4:30 on putting all the magazines out.  I was so tired when I finished, but I still had to work my frozen gormet job.  So I went back to the stores I had just been to and put the ice cream out.  I didn't get home till ten or eleven.  It was a long day.  &lt;br /&gt;I had to wake up on Tuesday at 6:30, because my mother and I drove up to Medford to visit my grandmother.  My grandfather died last year and my grandmother has trouble getting around.  We visited for a few hours then ran he erands for her.  Then we went home.  I got back just in time to get to work.  The days seem so long....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112316757627632419?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112316757627632419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112316757627632419&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112316757627632419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112316757627632419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-need-rest-but-i-know-i-wont-get-it.html' title='I need rest, but I know I won&apos;t get it...'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112292180133950846</id><published>2005-08-01T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T11:43:21.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Luck and Misfortune</title><content type='html'>I should be gone right now.  I am sappose to be meeting Jimmy in town right now for food, but instead I am sitting right here.  I went out to get in my vehicle and go and it wouldn't start.  Sometimes I think God is playing with me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called the China Hut, which is where we were sappose to be meeting and left a message with the lady at the counter for him.  Hopefully he get's it.  I don't think he has a cell phone and even if he does, I don't have the number.  I don't want him to think I'm pissed off and so I blew him off and didn't show up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully he calls when he gets my message.  Why do vehicals always break down at the worst possible time?  I can't wait till Wednesday when I get my car, then I won't have to drive my parents stupid car that is evil and makes scary sounds and breaks down.  Well at least I didn't break down in the middle of town this time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Day!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112292180133950846?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112292180133950846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112292180133950846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112292180133950846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112292180133950846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/08/bad-luck-and-misfortune.html' title='Bad Luck and Misfortune'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112285758532735689</id><published>2005-07-31T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-31T17:53:05.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Sore and I know I will probably be sorer tomorrow...</title><content type='html'>I went horse back riding today.  It's the first time I've rode a horse in probably over two years.  I'd nearly forgotten how much I love to ride.  Anyone who has ridden a horse knows what I'm talking about when I say I am sore.  I planning to go riding again next weekend and I know it won't hurt as bad, because I'll be more use to it, but right now I am very, very sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meneice and I went riding in the sand dunes at the beach, it was great fun.  Of course all the ups and downs and trotting are really tough when you haven't rode in a long time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how many people know this, but I am a pretty good rider.  I've been riding horses since before I could walk.  I use to go riding just about every weekend and I was in a horse club.  I was a member of Sweethearts saddle Club for a couple of years and rode in horse shows.  My picture was even on the front page of the newspaper on DeeDee, the horse I use to ride, for taking first in some event.  I have some ribbons and a trophy somewhere in the house, but those things were never very inportant, I just liked to ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to go riding again.  I was a bit rusty and everyone seemed a bit paronoid about me riding Breeze who is a complete spaze of a horse, but I never fell off or anything.  I guess I wasn't as rusty as everyone thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112285758532735689?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112285758532735689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112285758532735689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112285758532735689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112285758532735689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-sore-and-i-know-i-will-probably-be.html' title='I&apos;m Sore and I know I will probably be sorer tomorrow...'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112274800268655307</id><published>2005-07-30T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-30T11:26:42.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is Wonderful, oh so wonderful...</title><content type='html'>Life has been just wonderful lately, everything just keeps going right.  I love it.  Yesterday was my last day of training for anderson News and I'll get my first pay check soon.  The onlything that could have made yesterday any better would be if my stupid period hadn't started.  I had horrible cramps and a horrible headache, but it was a good day anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to my favorit person in the whole world, my wonderful sister Jennifer for an hour.  She sent me this really cute tank top that showed up when my CD's for VBS did.  Oh and my other sister Dee said she'd help me with the play for VBS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is just getting better and better.  Then I spoke to my eldest sister and she agreed to let me have my nephew for a week or two or three!  The fine details of his visit shall be sorted out today when I call her, but my nephew should be here for VBS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I work up this morning to the sound of someone knocking on the door telling me to answer the phone.  It was Matt calling!  I hadn't heared from him for weeks.  I kept missing his calls.  It was a great begining to the day.  Life is grand!  I forgot to tell him I got a cell phone, I keep forgetting I have one...  I'm just not a phone person.... phones are evil... must destroy phones....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus I get my car next Wednesday.  Yeah!  It's nothing special.  It's a Sable, but it only has like 50,000 miles, which is like nothing.  Also it has a lot of extra features you could buy.  Oh I think it's a 95'.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I got to go shower!  HAVE A HAPPY DAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112274800268655307?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112274800268655307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112274800268655307&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112274800268655307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112274800268655307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/life-is-wonderful-oh-so-wonderful.html' title='Life is Wonderful, oh so wonderful...'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112267413027915266</id><published>2005-07-29T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-29T14:55:30.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Neat Technology</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I wrote anything, my internet has been really bad for the last week.  Half the time you couldn't get on line and when you did manage to get on line it was as slow as dial up.  Plus after about five minutes you would lose the connection.  The problen seems to be fixed now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was my third and last day of training for Anderson News (my magazine job).  I was set up to be on this system where you call in your hours.  It is so neat!  All you have to do is call this phone number when you start work and put your badge #in and you're clocked in!  Then you call the number and put you badge # in when you're done to clock out.  I love it.  I can also check how many hours I have.  It' just super neat technology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I must go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112267413027915266?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112267413027915266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112267413027915266&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112267413027915266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112267413027915266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/super-neat-technology.html' title='Super Neat Technology'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112224435554579374</id><published>2005-07-24T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T16:18:03.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More of the same thing</title><content type='html'>I've written why my friendship with Jimmy was dented and bruised, now I'm going to tell what happened to my friendship with Maeve.  We aren't friends anymore, I don't think I could ever be friends with her again.  I've forgiven her, but i won't forget.  &lt;em&gt;Forgive and forget, relive and regret.&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were small things that happened before what I'm going to talk about.  Things that if I had been honest with myself had already chiped away at our friendship.  She hadn't been my bestfriend for a long time.  But here are the final things that ended our friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let me set this up for you.  Maeve and I had spent an entire day together right before Jimmy had come into town.  I asked her about her boyfriend, her job search, etc.  She never asked me about anything, at least not anything important.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jimmy came into town.  It seemed like I kept being stuck with him.  Then as I said before Maeve picked me up from my house and brought me to Judy's so jimmy, Maeve and me could hang out.  After a little bit Maeve's phone rings and she tells me her mom was calling and asked her to go pick her up some cigarettes.  So Maee left and said she'd be back in fifteen minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen minutes passed, then a half an hour, and then an hour passed.  Around then I realized that I had been set up.  I felt manipulated, anyone who knew anything about me would know not to do that.  But my friends are idiot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to call my so called best friend at this time, but was unable to get ahold of her.  Of course three hours after she left me at Judy's house alone with Jimmy she returned.  It was after nidnight.  I had a trigonometry test the next day and a ton of homework I needed to do, because I had blown it off to hang out with my friends that week.  Of course none of it got done that night so I was scrambling to finish it all the next day.  My consintration wasn't that good, since I had so many other things to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I was so emotionally fucked up after everything and I wanted an apology from Maeve for her leaving me at Judy's house alone with Jimmy.  On Easter Sunday, which was the Sunday after jimmy had left, my mother comes over to the Sunday shcool room to ask me what was going on, because she had just talked to Maeve.  Maeve had been blaiming me for Jimmy thinking about joining the military and talking about all the problems i had caused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that i would tell her all about it when we got home.  I ended up breaking down crying on Easter Sunday in my kitchen, I felt so alone and betrayed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt called me that day and I had never felt happier to hear his voice.  At least I knew I had one friend.  Then when I went to work, I talked to Audrey and she told me to call he next time.  She said she would have left work to get me.  That ment a lot to me.  Then I talked to my younger sister and spilled my heart out.  She told me to write down her numder and carry it in my purse, she swore that if I called her she'd find me a ride.  I realized I wasn't quite as alone as I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I've lost some of my childhood friends, but it let me see there are people out there who care for me and love me just the way I am.  To those people i will always be thankful.  For they picked me up when i was down and said all the things I needed to hear to heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been almost four months now, Maeve has never apologized to me.  Had she, we could still be friend.  But as I said I can forgive, but I can't forget.  I don't want to be hurt anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112224435554579374?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112224435554579374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112224435554579374&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112224435554579374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112224435554579374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/more-of-same-thing.html' title='More of the same thing'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112223661112835097</id><published>2005-07-24T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T16:04:23.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Whole Story, Sorta...</title><content type='html'>Well I saw Jimmy today at church for the first time since are fight.  I am pretty sure he will denie that we ever had an argument.  &lt;em&gt;Bastard&lt;/em&gt;.  See everything went to hell last time he was in town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He showed up and automatically started acting like we were going out, which we weren't.  Plus he kept doing things that pissed me off, but I had vowed to myself not to get mad at him, since he was only here for such a short time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To list a couple of thigs he did:&lt;br /&gt;     *I brought him up to see his parents and on the drive back we decided to go to the movies that night.  So I go to pick him up and no one is there, so I go to the theater and he never shows up!  I was pissed.  He could have called or something.  Plus to make it worse Judy told me he already had plans when he made them with me!&lt;br /&gt;     *He tells me to pick him up at 10, but when I get there the place we're going doesn't open until 11o'clock!  I felt minipulated.  Instead of asking me to show up an hour early so we could hang out or whatever he'd lied to me.  What made it worse was he told me no one else wanted to go up to try sushi(raw fish) with him, but that was a lie.  Again I felt manipulated.&lt;br /&gt;     *One last thing he did was he told me why he got to come back for a week, which I am not going to go into here.  I never asked to know, I didn't care.  But what he said made me feel very, very manipulated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What finally pushed me over the edge was the night before he left.  Everyone went to this resturant while I went to class.  I got done with class, and headed back to Judy's house to see if they were home yet.  They weren't, but I didn't want to go to the restaurant after everyone had always been there for an hour, they would probably already had finished diner.  I would have felt out of place, plus I'm terrified of large groups of people.  I act like I'm not, but they unnerve me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went home.  I never even got out of the car and my brother and i turned around and went back into town for my uncles birthday.  When I returned home a few hours later Maeve shows up and brings me back into town.  After a few minutes she gets a call and leaves.  She didn't come back for over three hours!  Jimmy fept hitting on me and such.  I kept trying to call, my so called best friend, but of couse I can't get ahold of her.  I have no way to leave and I was pissed.  Jimmy got pissed at me, beacuse I didn't do whatever he had wanted.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally after midnight Maeve retures and brings me home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning Maeve brings Jimmy over an hour before I am sappose to be at Judy's to say goodbye.  I was already mad and I was sleep deprived, so my brain really wasn't working well.  Now let me tell you something about myself, when I am upset, I mean really really upset and furious, I say nothing.  I say nothing, because I know if I speek I will say something I will regrte or I will burst into tears.  Let me recap our little conversation:&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy- &lt;em&gt;You're a cold hearted bitch.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- &lt;em&gt;What?!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy- &lt;em&gt;You were really cold to me last night, you were a real bitch.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me- &lt;em&gt;Fine, I'm a bitch&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy- &lt;em&gt;I know you don't like goodbye and that you wouldn't have showed up last night if Maeve hadn't had come to get you.  I also know you wouldn't have showed up this morning.  (Then there was more analyzing of me and telling me how I am afraid of comitment and a bunch of other shit).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just stood there and took it, my sister walked in and for the first time in my life, I wanted her there.  Finally he left.  I was so angry.  I have never been more hurt or more upset in my entire life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had no right to call me a cold hearted bitch.  It's not my fault I didn't live up to the little fantasy world that he created in his head.  It's not my fault I didn't want to just let a relationship just happen and not plan it all out.  He even had the stupidity to ast=k me were I felt our relationship was going... Now here's the question- &lt;em&gt;What relationship?&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here is what he didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;1. I had gone to Judy's four different times after class the day before he left.  &lt;br /&gt;2. I cried the last time he left, because I'd missed him at the airport.&lt;br /&gt;3. I had planed on trying to finish all the homework I'd blown off (to spend time with him), so I could bring him to the airport, but the little stunt the night before had prevented this.&lt;br /&gt;4. Even thoe i was still mad at everyone, I had still set my alarm and was going to go over to Judy's to say goodbye.  He nevery even gave me a chance to show up and told me I wouldn't.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Altogether it was not a great visit.  Now Jimmy is back for a visit again.  He did sortof apologise on the phone a week later after calling me a bitch, but jimmy has this way of apologising without apologising.  Only those people who know someone like him will understand that statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made me even more furiuse, is when he called a week after he'd left.  He acted as if nothing had happened!  Then he said he'd never called me a cold hearted bich!  All in all it was a very cold conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know I feel about him being back.  I wish Matt would call.  Where the fuck is he!  I miss Jimmy, but at the same time I want to stab him in the eye with a fork.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112223661112835097?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112223661112835097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112223661112835097&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112223661112835097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112223661112835097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/whole-story-sorta.html' title='The Whole Story, Sorta...'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112209795979244003</id><published>2005-07-22T22:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-23T22:26:52.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Week</title><content type='html'>I had planned on finishing the whole story before this weekend, but I just haven't had the time. VBS(Vacation Bible school) is a couple of weeks away and since I was put incharge I have had a million things to do. I also had my physical this week and started my new job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My physical was on Wednesday, but on Tuesday I went to find the place my physical was at, so I wouldn't have any trouble finding it. As I said in a previous post, my physical was not in the city I live in, but a city about a half an hour drive away, give or take, depending on traffic and if there is any road construction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my mom and I drove up and looked for the clinic. We went to the adress I was given and after looking around for a few minutes, discovered that the clinic had moved, so we had to go searching for it's new adress. We found the building we thought was the right clinic then went to Fred Meyers. It was so nice, everything was on sale, since Fred Meyers is remodling. I bought a skirt and three shirts for dirt cheap. Then I got home just in time for me to go to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on wednesday I call to make sure, we had the right adress and is wasn't right. The clinic I wanted was a couple of buildings down from the clinic we thought. Both clinics have almost the exact same.  What kind of crazy person gives a clinic thje same name as another clinic then puts them next to eachother?  Whoever this person is, they should be shot, because that is just plain cruel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my hour around 1:40, since my appointment was at 2:20.  Well I get to the clinic and go in and the lady behind the counter asks me why I am there.  I tell her.  She began to search her computer for my appointment and tells me she can't find my appointment.  I am mentaly freeking out and thinking, am i sappose to be next door?  When she says, "I found it your appointment it isn't untill 3:20 and there is no way we can fit you in till then, sorry" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I had an hour to kill before my appointment.  I couldn't go home, because I'd get there and have to turn around and drive back.  I'd just eaten, so I didn't want to go to a resturant and I was at Fred Meyers the day before.  I sat there in my car not knowing what to do when i remembered this spot Wane took me to at the beach, so I went there for an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I returned for my physical and they asked me how I was going to pay for it!  The company I was going to be working for was sappose to have already payed for it.  I was sappose to just have to walk in, have my physical and leave.  Thank God I had brought Gary's Phone # with me, so while I went to fill out the stupid paper work, they tried to get everything straightened out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily when I walk back up to the front desk to turn the paperwork in everything had been sorted out.  The girl behind the counter said the person she talked to seemed very sorry that the company had screwed up and it hadn't already been payed for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after that I sat in the waiting room for an hour, give or take, there was no clock, so I cant say exactly.  I was very happy that I'd had enough insit to bring a book and finished a couple of chapters in the new Harry Potter book.  Finally I was called in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse took my weight, temperature, etc.  Then left me in a room and told me the doctor would be along shortly.  fifteen to twenty minutes later the doctor showed up and gave me a really, really quick physical.  The doctor was really nice thou and reminded me a lot of my younger sister, they even had the same name.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all that waiting and hastle to see a nuse and then a doctor for a combined time of five minutes, but at least that ment I could finally start work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked for 5 1/2 hours friday.  If I didn't want this jod, none of this hastle would have been worth it.  Hopefully the hastle was worth it....  We'll see..,.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112209795979244003?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112209795979244003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112209795979244003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112209795979244003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112209795979244003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/my-week.html' title='My Week'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112119485501354410</id><published>2005-07-18T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T13:00:27.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Whole Story</title><content type='html'>I started this blog as a place to put down my thoughts and be able to go back and look at them and maybe get some feedback. My life has not been going that great the last few months. The sad thing is the problems have been caused by people I counted as my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have high standards of friendship and counted myself very lucky that I had five people in my life that I would count as friends. I was once told that if you have one person you can truly count as a friend you are blessed, if you have two or more you are blessed beyond your wildest dreams. I believe that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look around and that's true. Most people only have one true friend if that. Some people will argue with me, but I'm talking about someone who cares for you, someone you can talk to and who would do anything for you. Someone who if you called them at 2 in the morning, because you got thrown in jail, two towns over, would say I'll be there in a minute and jump in a car and drive two hours to bail you out. That's the kind of friend I've tried to be, even if I fail sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess if I'm going to tell the whole story I need to start a few years ago, when I was still in high school. I think it was my senior year, but it could have been my junior, I've never been good at remembering when thinks happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just after my birthday when everything first started. I had told a friend that I would go out with Jimmy or Jon if they would just have the balls to ask. Well my friend told my friend Morrigan in front of Jimmy. Her reaction struck his curiosity and he kept asking what everyone kept whispering about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we (Morrigan, Jimmy and I) were going to the casino for Morrigan's and my birthdays, but we blew to much time that Morrigan had to go home before we went to the casino. So it was just me and Jimmy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well after a bit of gambling, Jimmy and I were out in the parking lot and he was refusing to let me in the car till I told him what everyone had been whispering about earlier. It was late so after a bit I told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first time I saw Jimmy's super serious side. I realized I had just made a huge mistake, especially when he kissed me. He is a horrible kisser. His kisses are a major turn off. Plus I was not getting what I wanted. I wanted someone who had enough guts to ask me out, not take the cowards way, which is what he did, but it was my fault, because I enabled him to take the cowards way out and not take a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We promised to be friends and after a bit things got back to normal. We agreed to go to prom together. That was a mistake. I think he believed that prom was his chance to win me back. He got a local restaurant to open just for us after prom. Which I guess that is kind of romantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After prom he complained to one of my closest friends and coworker, Audrey, about how horrible prom with me had been. He complained that I didn't buy him a boutonniere. I don't want to sound stupid, but I didn't know what a boutonniere was until Audrey told me. Plus complaining about something like that makes him sound like a chick. He complained that he wanted one so he could save it. He sounds like a chick!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also complained that I never danced with him. I have tons of pictures that people gave me after prom that proves I danced with him a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my defense I didn't even want to be at prom. My period started that morning and I had the flew. I spent most of my morning throwing up. I'd thought about calling Maeve and having her go instead of me, but decided I should go. I took so many meds to make sure I could at least function at prom. I spent quiet a bit of time sitting at a table talking to this girl, man I can't remember her name, I think it was Amanda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanda was the extremely sheltered little sister of a girl who I had known for years. Her sister had gotten her a guest pass to prom, since she home schooled or went to catholic school or something. She was really shy so I made Jimmy and a couple of other guys dance with her. She thanked me by giving me a calloge of pictures of me and Jimmy at prom. (We're dancing in almost all of them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He complained about other things to and manipulated some things I said, but i'm done writing for now, I'll continue this at a later time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112119485501354410?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112119485501354410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112119485501354410&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112119485501354410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112119485501354410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/whole-story.html' title='The Whole Story'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112167209855288193</id><published>2005-07-18T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T00:34:58.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Lonely</title><content type='html'>I want to go hiking. I need to go hiking. I really, really want to go hiking... I have no one to go hiking with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've wanted to go hiking for weeks. The sun is out and it is so beautiful outside, but I'm not stupid enough to go hiking by myself. Walking alone in the middle of the woods is like saying, come and attack and rape me. I'm 5'4" and a 110 pounds and I've been hit on by enough sleazy, scary men to know that I don't like being alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm lonely. Jennifer, my sister, who I shared a room with for 15 years is just a phone call. She promised she would go hiking with me when she comes to pick up her stuff in a couple of weeks. She is one of the best things in my life and one of the most amazing people you'll ever meet. Nothing scares her.  I wish I was more like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also lonely, because I haven't talked to Matt in weeks.  I'm feeling unloved.  He was sappose to come back this summer, and should be here right now, but his parents moved to Washington, so he is there and not here.  He said he'd come here if he had a place to stay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just lonely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112167209855288193?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112167209855288193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112167209855288193&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112167209855288193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112167209855288193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-lonely.html' title='I&apos;m Lonely'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112146218671053136</id><published>2005-07-15T13:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T14:16:26.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For Poor Women, An AIDS Safety Net</title><content type='html'>I found this article and thought is was really interesting.  &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/07/14/AR2005071401700.html?referrer=email"&gt;http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/07/14/AR2005071401700.html?referrer=email&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112146218671053136?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112146218671053136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112146218671053136&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112146218671053136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112146218671053136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/for-poor-women-aids-safety-net.html' title='For Poor Women, An AIDS Safety Net'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112145196315515278</id><published>2005-07-15T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T11:26:03.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Things Women Do For Men</title><content type='html'>It disgusts me when women change themselves for men, especially when they change themselves physically.  As long as your healthy and not grossly overweight or so skinny you're starving yourself, you're fine just the way you are.  If a man does not love you for you, walk away and find one that does, he's not worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know someone who was told, by her husband, that she had to get a boob job to save their marriage.  So she got a boob job.  She went from a size 'A' to a size 'DD' and was misrable, because she started having back problems, so she then got a reduction down to a 'C'.  Now just around two years later their divorse is almost final.  The boob job did not save her marriage.  Big surprise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know someone else who's marriage was on the rocks, so the wife went and got pierced in several stratigic places to highten her husbands pleasure.  The thrill lasted a week and there marriage is still crumbling, I doubt it will last the year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are both true stories, I know both these people and changing themselves did not make them happy.  If your ever going to get plastic surgery, do it for yourself, not for some guy.  It's just not worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112145196315515278?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112145196315515278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112145196315515278&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112145196315515278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112145196315515278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/stupid-things-women-do-for-men.html' title='Stupid Things Women Do For Men'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112119279202581061</id><published>2005-07-12T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T11:26:32.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Physical</title><content type='html'>Well those who have been reading know that I had an interviw for a third job a couple of weeks ago.  After filling out an application that took me around 2 hours, the only things I had left to do before I could start was a drug test and a physical.  They set up the time and place and all I would have to do was show up and pass them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I had the drug test on June 29, two days after the interview and have been waiting and waiting and waiting to find out when the physical will be.  Where they use to have the physicals done no longer does them and they can't get hold of the other place in town that does them.  So they called and asked me if I would mind driving to Brookings for my physical.  It's not that far from where I live. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only problem is, the soonest they could get me in for a phisical was July 20!  That's almost a month after my interview!  I'm loosing time I could be working and time is money.  I hate this bulshit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112119279202581061?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112119279202581061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112119279202581061&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112119279202581061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112119279202581061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/physical.html' title='The Physical'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112067317532111962</id><published>2005-07-06T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T11:06:15.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Haven't Been Forgotten and I'm Not Crazy!</title><content type='html'>Last week I had an interview on Monday, several phone calls on Tuesday, and a drug test on Wednesday for a job at Anderson News, then nothing.  I kept waiting for a phone call telling me when and were my fisical was going to be.  I was getting a bit worried and thinking that they might have forgot me.  What made me even more worried was I think I lost Gary's (the guy who interviewed me) number during all the cleaning for the 4th.  But they called me today!  I haven't been forgotten!  Yeah!  The clinic they use to have the fisicals done at no longer does fisicals, so they are looking for a new place to have the fisicals done.  So as soon as they find a place I'll get a call with a time and place for my fisical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm not crazy!  The other year I bought a double boiler and it disappeared.  My mother said something like, "Are you sure you got a double boiler while garage saleing, I think you just dreamed it."  She had no memory of my double boiler and since I couldn't find it, it made it seem like I was crazy.  I started to believe that maybe I had imagined it.  Well the other day my mother found the double boiler, everyone said I imagined.  Therefore I'm not crazy!  It does exist!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TTFN&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112067317532111962?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112067317532111962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112067317532111962&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112067317532111962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112067317532111962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-havent-been-forgotten-and-im-not.html' title='I Haven&apos;t Been Forgotten and I&apos;m Not Crazy!'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112059622286591721</id><published>2005-07-05T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T13:43:42.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Survived the 4th ofJuly</title><content type='html'>Well the 4th of July is finally over and I'm relieved.  Since there was going to be so many people here on the 4th, everything was cleaned.  The lawn was mowed, a few more picnic tables were built, the garden was weaded and lots of other things were done.  Much to my surprise everything was ready when everyone showed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My guess is there where around 50 to 55 people.  Everyone I had added up was there, which was around 46 or 50.  Jeff, a long time friend of the family, and his wife showed up.  Also my brothers friend Josh, his girlfrien and his cousin or something.  There were also some other people there who I have no idea who they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All together the 4th was a lot of fun.  I went to the parade in the morning and got a dough boy (a.k.a. an elephant ear).  My dad was being incredable slow so when we got the dough boy line it was already probably a 30 minute wait, but luckily my grandma was in the middle of the line and she got me and my mother a dough boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got myself a deed for Cowchip Bingo.  Now, since most people will have never heard of Cowchip Bingo, I'm going to explain what it is.  A section of land is fenced off and divided into plots of land.  People then pay $5 for deeds to the plots of land.  Then after all the sections have been sold, cows are let loose into the fenced area.  Whoever plot of land the cows poop on, wins.  Now picture this, a bunch off people stqnding around, watching cows, praying they will poop.  Now if this doesn't prove what a small, hick town I live in, nothing will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of my day was running into an old friend, who I hadn't seen, since my sophmore or junior year of highschool, when he graduated.  We talked and walked around for a bit and he told me he'd graduated from college.  So now he was a well educated bumb. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also running into James reminded me of a lesson I learned my sophmore year of highschool.  You see James was partually responsible for my front teeth being broken in two my sophmore year.  I was at a football game and me and James were talking.  James was holding one of those umprelas that shoots out and opens at the press of a button.  Someone bumped into james and he hit the button and the umbrela shot out and hit me right in the face.  Luckily I was able to get into the denist three days later and get my front teeth fixed.  You'd never know that they were half fake, but personally I will never buy an umbrela with one of those push buttons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TTFN&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112059622286591721?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112059622286591721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112059622286591721&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112059622286591721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112059622286591721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-survived-4th-ofjuly.html' title='I Survived the 4th ofJuly'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112045486650581207</id><published>2005-07-03T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T22:27:46.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The 4th of July</title><content type='html'>I love the 4th of July, it is my favorit holiday next to Thanksgiving.  The only problem with it is that there are so many tourists in such a small little town for my comfort.  People are everywhere and there is so much traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with these little problems, I love it.  It's a huge holiday for the small city I live in.  Every year there is a parade in the morning, were the floats throw you candy.  Also there are booths set up all over Beachfront park were you can walk around and buy stuff and run into everyone you've ever known, plus a million other things are going on, like plays and such...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year we even had the biggest firework display in California!  It was coriographed to music and everything.  There were so many people pilled into such a small area to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorit part of the 4th of July is having a bbq at my parents house.  Ever year my family and friends get together and we play volley ball and other games.  We cook ribs, hamburgers, and hotdogs out by the pond and when it gets dark we light off fireworks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See my family goes to Nevada or Wyoming or any other place we can to get the good fireworks.  Mortars, bottle rockets, roman candles...  Then once it gets dark we light them all off, our neighbors never complain, but then again the fireworks they were shooting off the other year weren't exactly legal either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This 4th of July will be a bit different from other years, since my mothers side of the family will be there.  I can't stand some of them and many I don't really know...  This may sound horrible, but I'm afraid to call to of my uncles by there names, because I don't know which one is which.  They just were never around and they look a lot alike.  I know I'm going to screw up tomarrow and call some one by the wrong name.  There's going to around fourty people at my parents house so I'll have lots of oppurtunities to screw up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also the other thing that will be different is my younger sister won't be here.  Out of everyone in my family I get along with her best and was hoping she would make it home, but she wasn't able to get the time off.  Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I must go!  Have a Happy 4th of July!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112045486650581207?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112045486650581207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112045486650581207&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112045486650581207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112045486650581207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/07/4th-of-july.html' title='The 4th of July'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-112020073004772426</id><published>2005-06-30T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T23:53:37.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spa Wrap, drug test and the Orthadantist</title><content type='html'>Today has been wonderful. I went to my gym today and had a Miracle Body Spa Wrap. It was soooooo relaxing. My skin feels so nice and soft, which is amazing since I am always fighting dry skin. If you have the money go get a body wrap done, it is so worth it. If I was richer, I'd do it again and again and again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday wasn't so relaxing. I had to wake up at 4:30 in the morning so I could drive two hours with my bitchy sister to my othadantist appointment. I like my orthadanist he's really nice, but i hate having my braces adjusted or whatever you want to call it, my mouth is so sore after it's done. I can't eat anything solid, it hurts to much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the drive home from my orthadanist appointment, I hit four different spots of road constraction and kept getting stuck behind slow people. I barely made it in town in time to get to my drug test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drug test is for my new job. I have to pass a drug test and a fisical before I can start. The drug test was a hair drug test, which is nice, because it means I didn't have to pee in a cup, I just had to sit there while the lady cut a little hair off my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I wouldn't want the ladies job who took the hair. First of all most off the test she does are pee tests, gross. Secondly, on the form I was given it gives you six boxes to check that tell you were the sample of hair came from. The choices are head, chest, back, underarms, legs and other. Now think about it, where can you take hair from, other than the places listed? Also, who would want to take hair off someones back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well thay's all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-112020073004772426?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/112020073004772426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=112020073004772426&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112020073004772426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/112020073004772426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/06/spa-wrap-drug-test-and-orthadantist.html' title='Spa Wrap, drug test and the Orthadantist'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-111998552100572991</id><published>2005-06-28T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T12:05:21.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Interview and I Can Feel the 4th of July Getting Closer</title><content type='html'>Well I went to the interview yesterday.  Gary (the guy who interview me) and I went over to McDonalds and sat down and he interviewed me.  Actually he didn't really interview me, he just explained what I would be doing and all the stupid things I have to do to be able to do the job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I filled out the first part of the application while we were at McDonald.  I filled out the part that said your name, adress, previous work, where you've gone to school and who your referencese are.  I left a lot of things half filled out.  I didn't know the adresses to the schools I've been to, the adresses or phone numbers of the places I use to work at or still work at.  For refrences he told me to just write, Maureen and that would be enough.  (Maureen works in the back of Safeway, I recomendation from her is as good as gold and she likes me.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that Gary gave me the other part of the application to bring home and fill out.  My guess is it was somewhere between 45 and 60 pages thick.  It took me around two hours to go through it all and get it all filled out.  It is so sad that are society is so screwed up that companies have to have you sign a million papers to keep you from suing them.  I had to sign a paper about how they are an equal oppurtunity employer, one about sexual harassment, one about being fired if you're late to many times and a million other papers that blurred together after filling them all out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that stupid lawsuits have become part of our society.  around five years ago a lady sued McDonalds, because she put a coffee between her legs while she was driving and spilled it on herself.  And, Oh my God!, the coffee was hot! and she burnt herself.  The sadest thing is she won.  Then there was last year when those stupid people were suing mcdonalds or burger king for getting them fat and unhealthy.  People are so stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well on a different note, the 4th of July is drawing nearer.  My entire moms side of the family is going to be here.  I can't stand most of them.  They are snobs, money oriented snobs.  I only want to see one member from my mothers side of the family, sad isn't it.  When my grandfather passed on right before Thanksgiving, everyone decided to have a small family reunion, so for the 4th, everyone will be at my house.  Well I must go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TTFN&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-111998552100572991?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/111998552100572991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=111998552100572991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/111998552100572991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/111998552100572991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/06/interview-and-i-can-feel-4th-of-july.html' title='The Interview and I Can Feel the 4th of July Getting Closer'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-111990066675874224</id><published>2005-06-27T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-27T12:31:06.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Third Job...</title><content type='html'>I'm sappose to be at a job interview right now, but Gary, the guy the interview is with, called to tell me he was running late, so the interview isn't till one o'clock.  So I'm sitting here killing a little time till I have to go to the interview.  The interview is for a merchasdising (ok, I need a dictionary...) job, for magazins.  I already merchandise for Frozen Gourmet, which means I put ice cream on the selves in stores.  It's cold.  It's misrable, but I can easily work it around school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked Frozen Gourmet right after church, so I would be home when Matt normally calls.  I've missed his call the last couple of weeks and I really want to talk to him.  My last comversation with him was really pathetic, his phone died or something.  He was in the middle of telling me how'd he'd gone up a rank (he's in the navy) when suddenly the phone died.  I kept hoping he would call back, but when I left for work a half an hour later, he still hadn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am hoping Matt will call, when a strange number shows up on the caller Id, so I think horray!, Matt calling.  I pick up the phone to discover it's not Matt, but Robby.  I have to admit, that I was a bit upset.  It's not that I didn't want to talk to Robby, it's just that things have been weird between us.  That's another story and when I have time I'll bitch about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I should go, I wish Matt's parents hadn't moved and that he would be here and not Washington in a few weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-111990066675874224?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/111990066675874224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=111990066675874224&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/111990066675874224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/111990066675874224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/06/third-job.html' title='A Third Job...'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-111963633944793744</id><published>2005-06-24T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-27T11:12:10.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kidney Failure and the Phone Call of Doom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Yesterday I helped my father bring, our families' dog, Lucky to the vet. Lucky had lost a lot of weight while we were out of town and my stupid brother didn't notice. We thought he might be having trouble eating the hard dog food, since he's around 11 years old, but when we gave him a can of wet dog food he just threw it up. So we brought him to the vet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Lucky has kidney failure. The vet says that after they flush out his kidneys, he could recover. If he doesn't recover, I volinteered to call and tell my sister her dog is being put to sleep. There's a phone call I don't really want to make, but she's my best friend and I shared a room with her for 16 years of my life. Well I should know in an hour or two if Lucky will recover or not and what exactly I'll have to tell my sister. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-111963633944793744?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/111963633944793744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=111963633944793744&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/111963633944793744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/111963633944793744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/06/kidney-failure-and-phone-call-of-doom.html' title='Kidney Failure and the Phone Call of Doom'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13883797.post-111949048502150060</id><published>2005-06-22T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-27T11:10:45.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok, this is my first post...</title><content type='html'>Ok, this is my first post and I think I'll start it out by doing a Book Meme that I got from my dear friends blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Total number of books I've owned&lt;/strong&gt;: There is no way I could ever count the number of books I've owned. My guess would be that I have around two hundred books in my room right now, but I only keep books that I really like and think i'll read again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Last book I bought&lt;/strong&gt;: I just ordered a bunch of books from overstock.com that will hopefully show up soon. The books were Catcher in the Rye, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Into the Land of the Unicorns and a few more books. Oh wait I bought a Bible for one of the girls in Sunday School the other day, so maybe the last book I bought was the Bible. I buy to many books, this is a tough question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Last book I read&lt;/strong&gt;: I just finished reading the fifth book in the Hitchhicker's Guide to the Galaxy, Mostly Harmless. It was a brilliant book, a bit strange, but brilliant. Right now I'm reading The Serpent's Shadow by Mercedes Lackey, one of my favorit authors. I'm also in the middle of The Grand Tour by Patricia C. Wrede who is my all time favorit author. I own every one of her books and most of them are mint first editions. I'm also reading The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom, it's a pretty good book. My friend gave me a copy and it's different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Five books that mean a lot to me&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede. This is actually a book that has four books in it, Dealing with Dragons, Searching for Dragons, Calling on Dragons, and Talking to Dragons. They are really special to me, beacause I remember my mom reading them to me when I was little and they are the books that started my love for reading.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stepping From The Shadows by Patricia McKillip. This is a very strange book about a writer's life. Patricia McKillip's books are really hard to explain they have so much going on and so many unusual twists that they are to hard for me to explain, just pick up one of here books and read it. If you like fantasy and can follow a few characters at a time you'll probably injoy her books.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle. For those of you who have seen the old cartoon, this is the book it was based on. This is one of the few fantasy novels, I've ever read where in the end the prince did not marry and live happily ever after. The princes love is changed back into a unicorn at the end. My favorite line from the book is, "She will remember your heart when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Bible. Ok do I really have to explain this one. It's the Bible, enough said.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Anamorphs. For those of you who don't know this is a series of around a hundren books, that was for a short time a tv series. A dear friend who moved away introduced me to these books when I was in fifth grade and when she moved away these books always gave us common ground to talk about. Plus these books pulled me out of a slump. Every once in a while no books seem to intrest me and I have to find something that draws me back in.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Tag five people and have them do this on their blog&lt;/strong&gt;: I don't really know that many people who blog and those who do, have already done this.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well thats my first blog!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13883797-111949048502150060?l=thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/feeds/111949048502150060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13883797&amp;postID=111949048502150060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/111949048502150060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13883797/posts/default/111949048502150060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thingsillneversay123.blogspot.com/2005/06/ok-this-is-my-first-post.html' title='Ok, this is my first post...'/><author><name>CJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996070821183337942</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
