<?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-11651052</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:02:37.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pinklemonaide</title><subtitle type='html'>Its all me.Every simple word.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>295</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-4631759200094843527</id><published>2007-08-24T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T21:07:33.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>with love ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;How do you explain whats happening in your brain and in your heart?&lt;br /&gt;When everyone around you sees the basic, but cannot understand the power.&lt;br /&gt;They can not feel the lifetime of pain set upon breaking bones.&lt;br /&gt;Because there one day of pain only angers your eternity.&lt;br /&gt;Drink you tears up so you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; run out.&lt;br /&gt;You think by blowing your nose you can breath. But what do you do when that breath slowly ceases?&lt;br /&gt;My shoulders are heavy, my heart is shrinking.&lt;br /&gt;My life is nothing as it seems.&lt;br /&gt;In a shell we all live.&lt;br /&gt;Blinking as the lights flash. Blinking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; its a habit.&lt;br /&gt;I think too much, I try to decipher it all.&lt;br /&gt;I am not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;capable&lt;/span&gt; to let go.&lt;br /&gt;We will never move on. We will learn to fake it. Learn to live the way they think we should live.&lt;br /&gt;And in the end, once our hearts heal, they will break again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-4631759200094843527?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/4631759200094843527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=4631759200094843527' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/4631759200094843527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/4631759200094843527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2007/08/with-love.html' title='with love ?'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-5679529855182007109</id><published>2007-03-04T22:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T22:44:03.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fancy Car</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sol8_UiNkHI/Reu8JLFufeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/m44wggzQwn0/s1600-h/100_1428.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038327473925684706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sol8_UiNkHI/Reu8JLFufeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/m44wggzQwn0/s320/100_1428.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sol8_UiNkHI/Reu8JrFuffI/AAAAAAAAAAU/vVdFk6D6CEY/s1600-h/100_1431.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038327482515619314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sol8_UiNkHI/Reu8JrFuffI/AAAAAAAAAAU/vVdFk6D6CEY/s320/100_1431.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sol8_UiNkHI/Reu8KLFufgI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5mGs9dutqFg/s1600-h/100_1435.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038327491105553922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sol8_UiNkHI/Reu8KLFufgI/AAAAAAAAAAc/5mGs9dutqFg/s320/100_1435.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;New Car Yay!!! 2003 Tiburone... Donnie can't wipe the smile off his face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-5679529855182007109?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/5679529855182007109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=5679529855182007109' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/5679529855182007109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/5679529855182007109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2007/03/fancy-car.html' title='Fancy Car'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sol8_UiNkHI/Reu8JLFufeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/m44wggzQwn0/s72-c/100_1428.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-680907874597561780</id><published>2007-02-15T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T19:08:15.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'>.........</title><content type='html'>I hav not written one word since my Aunt died on December 21. I really have no words left in me to right at this point. Its like the soul of my writing is dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-680907874597561780?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/680907874597561780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=680907874597561780' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/680907874597561780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/680907874597561780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post.html' title='.........'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116504038677421137</id><published>2006-12-01T21:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T22:19:54.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sunshine in the rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;KOKOMO! a casual family restaurant, that is where donnie and I went for supper tonight. It was ok food, I didn't hate it, it was just a little to bland for me. But getting out of the house and going out to dinner felt like a treat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;The dollarstore has become our second home, I believe were there every night this week. We always need to pick some up, and you can basically get everything there and for a dollar. I have become obessed with fridge magnets, I bought a really cute white and black kitty magnet. I want to go get another. There are kinds of animals and they have long string legs and arms. There adorable. We bought some cat toys, because on Sunday we adopting a little kitten. We went to see the kitten last night and it was adorable, so the women told us the kitten will be ours on Sunday. She wanted to finish the deworming medicine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We spent most of the night working on the broom closet donnie built for us. As you remember from previous post I complained of our lack of storage room. The only room we had a place to put something is in a corner, and we couldn't find anything to fix that area. Donnie enjoys working with his hands, so he was quite excited to build this broom closet. Its a giant triangle. It will hold our broom, mop, bucket and all our cleaning supplies, and hopefully we will be able to fit our vacuum cleaner in it too. I painted it tonight a sky blue. We were just going to paint it white to match our cupboards. But then I seen this blue paint in the discount section. I wanted a colorful kitchen, and since everything is white, this will fix in nicely. We are going to paint a shelf in the sky blue paint too, so it kind of blends more in the kitchen, there will be more blue. I will post a picture when its done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Our next project is making a coffee table. It will be a big thick table,stained cherry wood, and then on top we will be putting bright greenish yellow tiles. Its gonna look fab! We are planning on making too end tables too and a bench for the bottom of our bed. I know it will become a reality when I get more money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ohohohohoh I almost forgot, I got the job. The testing went fine, and I bomb the interview, I left that day with the job. I start on Monday at 7:30 am. I train for 3 weeks these hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyways its late... bed time... Donnie went into work to get some extra hours. So Im lonely. I won't have a good sleep, I get scared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116504038677421137?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116504038677421137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116504038677421137' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116504038677421137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116504038677421137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/12/sunshine-in-rain.html' title='sunshine in the rain'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116468234088319616</id><published>2006-11-27T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T18:52:21.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amanda and her golden headset.</title><content type='html'>I was awaken by a phone call from a call center, I had a telephone interview and I go in tomorrow for testing. I need this job. I need it for the money and for my sanity. I have been in Halifax for 3 weeks and I've applied to over 30 jobs, and I've spent more than 80 percent of my time sitting by the phone and checking my emails. And to my surprise I haven't heard one response. I've been racking my brain wondering, if I wrote my cover letters wrong, or if I had spelling mistakes, obviously I didn't have enough experience. Understandable, but I thought someone would or could take a chance on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donnie is excited, I know he is willing to pay the bills for as long as he needs to, but I think hes getting a little frustrated. I know there are things he wants to buy, or things he wants us to do, but we don't ever have much left over money. I feel a little inadequate, I feel like I am not earning money, or doing anything useful though out the day. I feel bad for spending Donnies money, and I feel a little angry that I can not buy the things I want. Splurge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have become a chef, supper time is my favorite time. Donnie laughs at all my recipes, and he usually thinks they sound gross. But he hasn't been disappointed yet. Donnie a little fussy, he's fussy with sauces and veggies. I think he's more into plain food, meat and potatoes. I made Chessy Chicken Rolls the other night and I made Beefy Biscuits tonight. I've been finding recipes online. And I've been trying them out every night. I make full meals and desserts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope someone comes to visit soon, I need to show off my cooking skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I need to be doing something through the day, sitting on the couch watching TV gets old. I clean too. So I just need this job, my head, heart and wallet have been suffering since I came here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116468234088319616?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116468234088319616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116468234088319616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116468234088319616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116468234088319616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/11/amanda-and-her-golden-headset.html' title='Amanda and her golden headset.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116465449018073773</id><published>2006-11-27T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T11:08:10.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I just lost a post! I'll be back later to try and piece together my lost post. I hate when this happenes!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116465449018073773?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116465449018073773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116465449018073773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116465449018073773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116465449018073773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-just-lost-post-ill-be-back-later-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116408018425062512</id><published>2006-11-20T19:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T19:36:24.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>terrified</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/whatever.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/whatever.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad I am not alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116408018425062512?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116408018425062512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116408018425062512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116408018425062512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116408018425062512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/11/terrified.html' title='terrified'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116387190073130660</id><published>2006-11-18T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T09:45:00.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'>little ole' Hubley</title><content type='html'>Writen on Nov.10,06&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lonely. I am in the living room and Donnie is in bed sleeping, he’s been there since 9:30. I just cleaned the bathroom there was so much dirt, I cleaned along the edges and clean the bathtub again. I sat on the toilet to pee and I smelt stinky piss, I searched everywheres and I looked in the bathtub, and the smell got stronger. I ripped up the little flower mats and it was yellow underneath. Ice peed in the bathtub. Later that day he pooped in our bedroom. The carpet is already really stained. Donnie washed it with a carpet cleaner, but it still stinks and the stains didn’t disappear. I sweep the floors like 10 times a day. I never walk around the floor without my dollar store slippers. We couldn’t even afford a pair of real slippers. The floors look dirty, I’ve tried sweeping them and mopping and they still look the same. I was on my hands and knees scrubbing. There’s so much dust and dirt along the baseboards. Its so disgusting. The blinds are dirty, the windows are dirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ice has been hiding under the bed most of the day. He seems just as lonely as me. He’s so bored. I don’t know if I will make it here. Maybe it will get easier when I get a job. OR should I say if. The employers aren’t biting my bait. And I am sort of glad. I feel so depressed. I feel lonely. I don’t want to work. I feel so out of place here. We live in the middle of nowheres. We have to go into town to get close to anything. It’s so dark at night. I feel like we are living in our own separate world. No one even calls me. I have to call everyone and I feel like I am taking up there time. There are so many things that I want for the apartment to spruce it up. I need to make it feel more like a home. We found a couch that we adore, but since I am unemployed I couldn’t apply for the credit card. And since Donnie has bad credit we didn’t get the couch. We are going to wait until Donnie gets him profit sharing. But I have a feeling that when that time comes we won’t get the couch. Nothing has been turning out like it was suppose to. We were supposed to have the internet, and we don’t. We were supposed to work for Andrew on Sundays to make extra money, we haven’t started. I was hoping to have some interviews lined up for this week, and I haven’t heard back from anyone, and I haven’t sent off too many resumes either because of the no internet problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donnie’s been working extra hours, which he has to because we need the money, but it just adds to my loneliness, of course. I can’t even figure out the channels, its takes me about 20 minutes to find the show I want to watch. We don’t even get MTV. This is the channel I watch the most. I can’t even leave the house without Donnie, there’s nothing close enough to walk to, and I’d get lost and bored alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I dreamt of moving to Halifax, I dreamt of an awesome job, going downtown at night, eating of restaurants, meeting tons of friends, stylish furniture and accessories and shopping. I, for sure, didn’t expect the apartment to look the way it does. Nothing has met my expectations. And I am trying so hard to be patient, I’m trying to be open minded, I am trying to be easier on Donnie. I am just disappointed with the way our new, joint life has turned out. I am going to try and be strong and give this more time. Its just a lonely time for me. And I don’t know who to turn to, or how to change it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116387190073130660?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116387190073130660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116387190073130660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116387190073130660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116387190073130660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/11/little-ole-hubley.html' title='little ole&apos; Hubley'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116275273857098994</id><published>2006-11-05T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T10:52:18.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First night in our apartment</title><content type='html'>I am actually typing this off line. At the moment we do not have the internet. But soon, hopefully. I spent the first night in my apartment, Donnie and I. And I couldn’t sleep, I guess it’s the new surroundings, my whole body and mind is disorientated. I heard every noise, and the smell was different. It seemed darker than most nights. Our apartment is completely chaotic, boxes upon boxes, big blue garbage bags holding my prized possessions; my clothes. I can’t even think straight when I stand in our kitchen/living room, you can barely see the floor, and we have to tip-toe around everything. I don’t even know how we will get everything in order and organized. It’s overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in Halifax a little after 9; we unloaded the car and then headed to Sobey’s to do our first grocery shopping excursion. I was estimating a 200 bill, and everything thought we were crazy. They were sure that we would spend double that. But our grand total was 197.67, and my sisters gave us a $20 gift certificate. So it was even cheaper. After we got home and put everything away, we remember a few items that we had forgotten, but I think we did fantastic. It only took us close to hours. Haha. I can’t believe we were shopping in a grocery store that long. My cupboards and refrigerator still look bare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up when Donnie was leaving for work, which was 5:30 am. I was awake way long before that, but I decided if I couldn’t sleep I might as well get up and get started. I have been cleaning for almost 10 hours. I didn’t even take any breaks. I sat down for 10 mins to eat a bowl of cereal. I know I accomplished a lot but I still feel I didn’t make a dent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started with the bath. And scrubbed everything down, even the walls and the door. Everything was dusty and gross. Then I hung up our colorful shower curtain and began folding and putting away our towels and linens. Tough thing to accomplish because we have limited amount of storage in this apartment. There is one closet in the whole apartment, no coat closet, not broom closet. We have like 6 cupboards and 3 drawers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bathroom is pretty much finished, I just have some pictures and a hand towel rod to hang. But the kitchen is another story. It is still in progress. I washed all the cupboard inside and out. And cleaned the store and oven, I am living the inside of the oven for Donnie, it is disgusting!! I had to wash most of our dishes, and take them all out of the boxes and packages. We have so much garbage piled up in our bedroom. Everything is being stored in the bedroom. We are currently sleeping in the living room on the futon. We are going back home on the weekend to bring the rest of our stuff down, including my comfy bed. I had a lot of trouble again with the storage. We just don’t have enough room for everything. We are going to have to buy a microwave stand with shelves in it. And buy a wardrobe, and maybe some sort of storage unit for our broom, mop, bucket and other stuff. But I don’t even think we have enough room for all of that. The apartment is lets say cozy. Which actually means that it is tiny. We’ll see how it turns out, and if we can fix everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so worried about finding a job. I am really nervous about job interviews, and I don’t really feel like I am ready to work in the field I studied for. It’s a big step from working in retail.&lt;br /&gt;We left Ice in Moncton until we come back on the weekend to get him. I am glad we didn’t take him this time because he would of went mad with all the chaos. I miss him, I know I will feel better when he is here with me. He’s like my little baby. &lt;br /&gt;I made pasta salad tonight, for tomorrow’s supper. And a garden salad for tonight. We having that and homemade pita pizzas. I am getting hungry, I can’t wait for Donnie to come home. He’s so cute he has called me like 5 times to check up on me. I am feeling a little lonely, but my sisters and mom have called me. I can’t wait until we get our house phone hooked up. I can’t wait for my bed. And our new couch, a rug and to be able to see the ugly floor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116275273857098994?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116275273857098994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116275273857098994' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116275273857098994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116275273857098994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/11/first-night-in-our-apartment.html' title='First night in our apartment'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116213916184025803</id><published>2006-10-29T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T13:54:40.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hit the road Jack</title><content type='html'>Days before we leave for Halifax things just seem to be falling apart. Our Brand New camera broke. We didn't even have it for 2 weeks. And yesterday Donnies car broke. And when he was taking it to his dads work to fix it, something on his tire broke and he went into the ditch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donnies dad was supose to be moving down all our big things today, but know they have to spend all day working on his car. So I am not sure if we are still going to be moving on Tuesday like planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are both quiet stressed out. Im an finished work. Which feels great. Two girls from work chiped in and bought me a mop bucket full of cleaning supplies. There was tons of stuff. Thye must fo spent like 50 bucks. And then my boss bought me 4 towels and a box of cholates. And Catherine bought me a cordless phone. And my familys have a family night for me, including nick, and donnie. Which is going to be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also graduated. I didn't actually attend the ceremony. I really didn't care to go, I barely know anyone and I hated the school. My mom bought me a purse, a pair of dres pants, and some headbands for graduating. I love presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to go to the mall today and pick up some more things, and maybe go Donnie a cheering up present. I was gonna get him a new hat, or a hoodie. We'll see tho, its kind of cool out and sooooo windy. I just want to stay inside all day. I am hoping they will fix Donnies car today. I haven't really see him all week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we went to Boo at the Zoo, which was really fun. I actually got scared quite a few times. My little sister laura came with me and Donnie, and his sister Jerrica and Catherine. We had a blast. It was cold ou, but we still had a lot of fun. We took tons of pictures of course!!! I was pissed tho that we didn't have our new camera with us. Bummer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116213916184025803?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116213916184025803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116213916184025803' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116213916184025803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116213916184025803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/10/hit-road-jack.html' title='Hit the road Jack'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116102499820990094</id><published>2006-10-16T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T11:56:38.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>more</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/chipmunk.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/chipmunk.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%20033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/Picture%20033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%20035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/Picture%20035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%20053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/Picture%20053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%20022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/Picture%20022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116102499820990094?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116102499820990094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116102499820990094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116102499820990094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116102499820990094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/10/more.html' title='more'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116098973969112975</id><published>2006-10-16T02:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T02:08:59.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>beauty is in the eye of the beholder.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%20040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/Picture%20040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%20009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/Picture%20009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%20050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/Picture%20050.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%20030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/Picture%20030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pictures from our new camera. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116098973969112975?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116098973969112975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116098973969112975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116098973969112975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116098973969112975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/10/beauty-is-in-eye-of-beholder.html' title='beauty is in the eye of the beholder.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-116036661761793545</id><published>2006-10-08T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-08T21:04:56.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>5 dollar cab ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Donnie and I spent thanksgiving apart, he is in Halifax working and Im at home. This is our first thanksgiving with many more to come, but I am bummed that we wasn't here to spend it with me. When I last called him he was on his way to our apartment to eat kraft dinner and go to bed at 6pm. The poor boy is pooped out. He works such long hours. 12 hours shifts, then usually goes home and sleeps like 3 hours and got back in and works 12 more hours. I couldn't do that! I don't even think I will be able to bear to work 8 hours shifts a day. Yuck. I don't think I was meant to be a working women lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I babysat tonight to make some extra cash, any penny extra I can earn is a big help. We are desperately broke, all our money goes on bills and towards the apartment. I really need to start saving for our first rent and groceries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom bought me a mop, Kleenex, light bulbs, a set of wicker baskets and 2 folding wooded standing trays. I was very excited. We have pretty much everything we &lt;strong&gt;need&lt;/strong&gt; for the apartment. But there are thousands of things I want&lt;strong&gt; still&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im scared about Ice, Im worried the move will be really hard on him.He'll have to sit in the car for a 3 hour drive and then get used to a new apartment with out his family. I hope he likes it. I tell him everyday that hes moving, and that he will love it. I like to think he can understand me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donnie and Ice are soo cute together. They rub there heads together. Its adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Heres a cute picture of Ice and Bam. They don't get along at all, so we were surprised to come home and see them laying together on Lauras bed.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0281.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0281.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-116036661761793545?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/116036661761793545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=116036661761793545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116036661761793545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/116036661761793545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/10/5-dollar-cab-ride.html' title='5 dollar cab ride'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115999296496164697</id><published>2006-10-04T13:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T13:17:52.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A big daze!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Highlights of October&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We got our futon today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Our dell computer and digital camera order is all messed up. I have spent the last 3 days on the phone will Dell tryin to figure it out. I think we have like 3 computers and 3 digital cameras on order. I have no idea how that happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My room is a diaster, boxes and garbage bags every wheres.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On Saturday we packed Donnies car with 2 big book shelves, boxes, clothes, and our buys from that week and sent them down to Halifax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ive been doing my last week of school at home independantly. Which I haven't been working on it very well. I think Im leaving it all to the last minute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Im broke. And it was so depressing going to the mall with my sister. Seeing all the new fall clothes out, that I couldn't buy. I don't even have enough money to buy deordorant and shampoo. Im poor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Im trying to fight this cold Ive had for 2 weeks now. I just can't seem to get rid of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115999296496164697?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115999296496164697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115999296496164697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115999296496164697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115999296496164697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/10/big-daze.html' title='A big daze!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115959250171992476</id><published>2006-09-29T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T22:01:41.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love shopping....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/V610_FF_250x200.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/V610_FF_250x200.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/6400_14in.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/6400_14in.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Donnie and I order a laptop and a new digital camera. Yippie! It will be here in 2 weeks. Can't wait.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115959250171992476?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115959250171992476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115959250171992476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115959250171992476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115959250171992476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-love-shopping.html' title='I love shopping....'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115937437526045566</id><published>2006-09-27T08:46:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T09:26:15.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soon to be on our own</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;So many things are happening in my life at the point. My stress level is raising. I am working independantly at home on my last class, untop of doing extra work for the church. I start my REAL on the job on Oct.11 and finish oct.31. And then I am moving to halifax. We have the apartment and we have been moving our things down, each time donnie goes down to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;I have been shopping like a mad women. We are pretty much prepared. There are still some minor things we need. We have been couch shopping. And we might also be ordering a Dell computer. I have been job searching. Which is scary. I had an opportnity for a job interview but I was unable to make it to Halifax. So I will probably just save applying for jobs once I am moved down there. It will be much easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Im a little disopointed with the apartment, its just not what I imagined in my head. Its smaller, and uglier. And we live in the boonies. We live like 7 minutes from Bayers Lake. But theres woods every wheres. And like nothing near us. I am fearful, becasue I will need to depend on donnie for eveything. He will be my means for everything. Which im scared might puts stress on our relationship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Everything that is going on is very overwhelming. But Donnie has been so supportive and sympathic, he is amazing. I feel so blessed. And so incredibly happy to have him in my life. He makes me smile, and has this calming effect on me. He knows exactly the right words to make me feel better. And he just motivates me to be a better person. I am so excited to move in with him, I am anxious, I am terrified. But its all good. I feel like this is really what I need. This is going to be great for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;This weekend we went to Halifax for the Stones Concert. IT POURED. We stood in the rain for 7 hours. I was soo cold, every inch of my body shiver. But I seen Kanye West and he was amazing. I was sooo stoked. He performed with so much enegry. He rapped even better than on the cd. And he looked so hot. We only stayed for like 4 of the Rolling stones songs. I was just soo cold, Donnie was scared I was gonna pass out. But it was worth it, we had alot of fun. And we met some really cool people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;We bought some more stuff for the apartment. An eletric Skillet and 3 huge blue glasses they were on sale, for both it came to $8.99. We have been so lucky finding really good deals. We ordered a futon, which should be arriving next week sometime.And Donnies Aunt gave us a toaster,which was sweet. We stayed at her house for the weekend. She asked us to sleep in sperate rooms, but donnie snuck into my room when she feel asleep. I felt so naughty, but I really wanted to sleep with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Pretty soon we will be able to cuddle all night in our OWN APARTMENT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115937437526045566?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115937437526045566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115937437526045566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115937437526045566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115937437526045566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/soon-to-be-on-our-own_115937437526045566.html' title='Soon to be on our own'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115937431430463524</id><published>2006-09-27T08:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T09:25:14.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soon to be on our own</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;So many things are happening in my life at the point. My stress level is raising. I am working independantly at home on my last class, untop of doing extra work for the church. I start my REAL on the job on Oct.11 and finish oct.31. And then I am moving to halifax. We have the apartment and we have been moving our things down, each time donnie goes down to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;I have been shopping like a mad women. We are pretty much prepared. There are still some minor things we need. We have been couch shopping. And we might also be ordering a Dell computer. I have been job searching. Which is scary. I had an opportnity for a job interview but I was unable to make it to Halifax. So I will probably just save applying for jobs once I am moved down there. It will be much easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Im a little disopointed with the apartment, its just not what I imagined in my head. Its smaller, and uglier. And we live in the boonies. We live like 7 minutes from Bayers Lake. But theres woods every wheres. And like nothing near us. I am fearful, becasue I will need to depend on donnie for eveything. He will be my means for everything. Which im scared might puts stress on our relationship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Everything that is going on is very overwhelming. But Donnie has been so supportive and sympathic, he is amazing. I feel so blessed. And so incredibly happy to have him in my life. He makes me smile, and has this calming effect on me. He knows exactly the right words to make me feel better. And he just motivates me to be a better person. I am so excited to move in with him, I am anxious, I am terrified. But its all good. I feel like this is really what I need. This is going to be great for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;This weekend we went to Halifax for the Stones Concert. IT POURED. We stood in the rain for 7 hours. I was soo cold, every inch of my body shiver. But I seen Kanye West and he was amazing. I was sooo stoked. He performed with so much enegry. He rapped even better than on the cd. And he looked so hot. We only stayed for like 4 of the Rolling stones songs. I was just soo cold, Donnie was scared I was gonna pass out. But it was worth it, we had alot of fun. And we met some really cool people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;We bought some more stuff for the apartment. An eletric Skillet and 3 huge blue glasses they were on sale, for both it came to $8.99. We have been so lucky finding really good deals. We ordered a futon, which should be arriving next week sometime.And Donnies Aunt gave us a toaster,which was sweet. We stayed at her house for the weekend. She asked us to sleep in sperate rooms, but donnie snuck into my room when she feel asleep. I felt so naughty, but I really wanted to sleep with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Pretty soon we will be able to cuddle all night in our OWN APARTMENT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115937431430463524?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115937431430463524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115937431430463524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115937431430463524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115937431430463524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/soon-to-be-on-our-own_27.html' title='Soon to be on our own'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115937430826566402</id><published>2006-09-27T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T09:25:08.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soon to be on our own</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;So many things are happening in my life at the point. My stress level is raising. I am working independantly at home on my last class, untop of doing extra work for the church. I start my REAL on the job on Oct.11 and finish oct.31. And then I am moving to halifax. We have the apartment and we have been moving our things down, each time donnie goes down to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;I have been shopping like a mad women. We are pretty much prepared. There are still some minor things we need. We have been couch shopping. And we might also be ordering a Dell computer. I have been job searching. Which is scary. I had an opportnity for a job interview but I was unable to make it to Halifax. So I will probably just save applying for jobs once I am moved down there. It will be much easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Im a little disopointed with the apartment, its just not what I imagined in my head. Its smaller, and uglier. And we live in the boonies. We live like 7 minutes from Bayers Lake. But theres woods every wheres. And like nothing near us. I am fearful, becasue I will need to depend on donnie for eveything. He will be my means for everything. Which im scared might puts stress on our relationship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Everything that is going on is very overwhelming. But Donnie has been so supportive and sympathic, he is amazing. I feel so blessed. And so incredibly happy to have him in my life. He makes me smile, and has this calming effect on me. He knows exactly the right words to make me feel better. And he just motivates me to be a better person. I am so excited to move in with him, I am anxious, I am terrified. But its all good. I feel like this is really what I need. This is going to be great for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;This weekend we went to Halifax for the Stones Concert. IT POURED. We stood in the rain for 7 hours. I was soo cold, every inch of my body shiver. But I seen Kanye West and he was amazing. I was sooo stoked. He performed with so much enegry. He rapped even better than on the cd. And he looked so hot. We only stayed for like 4 of the Rolling stones songs. I was just soo cold, Donnie was scared I was gonna pass out. But it was worth it, we had alot of fun. And we met some really cool people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;We bought some more stuff for the apartment. An eletric Skillet and 3 huge blue glasses they were on sale, for both it came to $8.99. We have been so lucky finding really good deals. We ordered a futon, which should be arriving next week sometime.And Donnies Aunt gave us a toaster,which was sweet. We stayed at her house for the weekend. She asked us to sleep in sperate rooms, but donnie snuck into my room when she feel asleep. I felt so naughty, but I really wanted to sleep with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;Pretty soon we will be able to cuddle all night in our OWN APARTMENT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115937430826566402?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115937430826566402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115937430826566402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115937430826566402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115937430826566402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/soon-to-be-on-our-own.html' title='Soon to be on our own'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115773083045608665</id><published>2006-09-08T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T11:25:43.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Cat and I took our famous late night drives. She picked me up at 11 ish and I positive this would not be turning into a late night. But, of course, it did. Silly me. We were out until 2:30. We drove for a while and then decided to forfill our cravings for chocolate cake with boiled icing. We drove to Sailsbury to the Big stop. I was all decked out in my bright pink pj pants, fake uggs and a big green hoodie. I looked beautiful lol. But I felt rather undressed. But what the heck, its just an Trucker resturaunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were basically the only ones there. We ordered a cold plate and shared it. But it took 10 mins of pleading. And We shared a bleberry cheese cake. DELISH!! Through out our meal we played "The orignal IQ TESTER" Its a block of wood with I think 14 holes and you stick little pegs into 13 of the holes. Then you jump the pegs, removing the one you had jumped. Like checkers...sort of. Anyways you try to get down to one.  I got down to two 3 times. Cat only made it to 3. She was a tad jealous lol. I can't help it that I am "above average iq" and shes "just soso" lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get in bed until like 3 am. Guess who didn't go to school the nest day?? Amanda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finshed my exam, and now Im home being bored. I going to the mall with my sister to look around. I have money... not much, but I want to spend it.lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115773083045608665?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115773083045608665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115773083045608665' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115773083045608665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115773083045608665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/cat-and-i-took-our-famous-late-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115734486189992236</id><published>2006-09-03T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T21:46:36.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>times ticking away</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Donnie just dropped me off at my house it is 1:25 am. We went to Jessika and Nick's apartment to watch some movies and just chill. We watched "From Dusk to Dawn" I thought it was kind of corny but still cool. Its soo hard to pick a movie when its us 4. Because we've all seen too many movies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I worked all weekend, which actually went by sort of quickly. But today my body feels real stiff and my bones keep cracking. I feel like an old lady. It was fairly busy at work, yet still boring. Back to school brings out everyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Last night I had a sleep over at Donnies. We made bbq chicken pizza. It was almost ruined because donnie's mom doesn't have a cheese grater. I've never met anyone who does not have a cheese grater. Donnie drove to sobeys, which was close, then zellers, closed, and shoppers which didn't sell any. So he came home empty handed and fuming. In the end we cut the cheese in really thing slices and placed them on the pizza. It didn't really melt right but it still tasted good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Im dreading going back to school. I hate this class. Its too much talking for me. We have a lot of useless homework. Like looking up definitions, and grammar sheets. Plus we have 3 oral presentations. OUCH. I hate public speaking. HATE IT. And the teacher checks our homework and makes us go around the room an answer out loud all the questions. I feel like I am back in elementary school not college. I feel so anxious in this class. I dread going.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tomorow is a holiday! I finally get to sleep in!! Yippee!!! I hope its sunny. And I hope we do something really fun!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;19 more days until I see KANYE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115734486189992236?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115734486189992236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115734486189992236' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115734486189992236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115734486189992236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/times-ticking-away.html' title='times ticking away'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115659435763895374</id><published>2006-08-26T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-26T05:13:01.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The life of a Butterfly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yesterday was mine and Donnie's 6 month anniversary. I feels a lot longer than that. I feels like it has been years rather then months. Things are wonderfully great! Donnie bought use Rolling stones concert tickets for my anniversary present. I haven't bought Donnie's present yet, I have been broke, my loan should be here anyday, if not I get paid on Thursday. Donnie has changed his mind every week about what he wants. First it was some tool, then an airbrush, many things for his car. I wonder what he will want next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My school year is wrapping up. I have like 2 months left, with is exciting. I've been so frustrated. But I got great news for the career service girls. I have been referred and my resume has been sent to a really swanky Law Firm. To be an advertising assistant. Just to be chosen out of all my class to ahve the chance to work there, is awesome. It will look so great on my resume. It just a placement for 2 months. But I would get paid, monday to friday 9-5. I am so excited. Hopefully I'll get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't do much last night, were both broke. We played tennis. But I got snappy, because Donnies been playing Tennis in Halifax when hes down there for work. He thinks hes like really good now. So he makes me feel stupid. Telling me to hit the ball this way, hold my racket this way, stand farther back in the box. I didn't think I was that bad. Im really good at serving. I would say Im decent. But he made me feel like I sucked. So after a while I got cranky and started smashing the balls over the fence lol. He didn't like that much. So the game ended. We played for about an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the night we just chilled. We went to the mall, to my work to get a baby outfit for my Cousin, he shower is on Sunday. And we just looked around. Then we came home and watch a Alfie. It was pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways work time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115659435763895374?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115659435763895374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115659435763895374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115659435763895374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115659435763895374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/08/life-of-butterfly.html' title='The life of a Butterfly'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115621229655858850</id><published>2006-08-21T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T19:04:56.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures from Halifax</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0129.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0129.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0140.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0140.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0128.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0128.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0116.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0116.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0138.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0138.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115621229655858850?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115621229655858850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115621229655858850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115621229655858850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115621229655858850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/08/pictures-from-halifax.html' title='Pictures from Halifax'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115590897893133431</id><published>2006-08-18T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T06:49:39.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One day down, a million more to go!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rolling Stone here we come. Donnie and I went to Halifax yesterday to pick up Rolling stone tickets. I enjoy there music and think they will put on a great show, but the real reason I am going is to see Kanye West. He is one of the opening acts. Ive always wanted to see him in Concert. Him and Mariah Carey are my number ones!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the day in Halifax and it was perfect! Just the mini getaway that I needed. It was a beautiful day and we both looked hot! lol. We got a free meal at Maxwell's Plum with our tickets. And we went shopping. We both bought a couple shirts and Donnie got some new kicks. Its so hard for him to find sneakers cuz he takes a size 13!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met Donnies great aunt. Were staying at her place when we go back down next month for the concert. Very nice lady, but omg she has huge Knockers!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also got to watch the buskers down on the water front. They come every year. And I always wanted to go. Its a group of street people who perform all day for like a week. And its free. We watched crazy hulahoop girls. A man get out of a straight jacket. A man balance on a 12 foot pole and juggle knifes. And break dancers. There was soo much more, but we got hungry! So we walked around for like an hour trying to decide on a restaurant. In the end we tried Applebees. I order a stir fry, it started off good. Look fabulous. But then I tasted the sauce, it was pukrid!! It was like spicy orange. But it tasted like orange peels with pepper and hot stuff lol. It made me sick to my stomach. But I had chocolate cake with boiled icing, that cheered me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yea when we were on the waterfront. I get a henna tattoo. It was 5 bucks, and now I know why it was soo cheap. It was suppose to be this weird butterfly design, it was cute. But no it looks like someone drew it on with a permant marker and it looks like a weird lobster!!! I hate. I got it on my wrist. I should of just bought the stuff to do it yourself, that was donnie's idea, but I didn't listen!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donnie made the day so perfect for me, he paid for everything, he was a great tour guide, and he did everything I wanted. And he catered to me all day. He was amazing, and Im even more in love with him now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He completely made my summer, just with that one day.! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115590897893133431?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115590897893133431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115590897893133431' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115590897893133431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115590897893133431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/08/one-day-down-million-more-to-go.html' title='One day down, a million more to go!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115543354250983890</id><published>2006-08-12T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T18:45:42.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somethings Gotta Give!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maybe I was not meant to be happy, and to live a fun and exciting life. &lt;strong&gt;God has kicked me in the butt this summer.&lt;/strong&gt; I have actually done &lt;strong&gt;NOTHING&lt;/strong&gt;. The one summery thing I have done is gone to the beach and we didn't even sim because there were too many jelly fish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We had plans to go to the drive in this weekend. Each weekend for the past &lt;strong&gt;4 or 5 weekends&lt;/strong&gt; we planned to go and something always got in our way. This weekend I was sure we were going. But I was on call and &lt;strong&gt;OF COURSE&lt;/strong&gt; they needed me. Canceled! We planned to go camping. We didn't go because it rained all weekend. We wanted to go to PEI, couldn't get the time off. &lt;strong&gt;Anything we planned was ruined because we had no money, the weather sucked or I couldn't get the time off.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am soo depressed&lt;/strong&gt;. My summer sucks. My life sucks. I hate school. And I wish I could love it. I wish I could be dedicated and love waking up to go to school. But no half of the days I can't get my butt out of bed. I hate my work. Its depressing and boring. And Im always on call, waiting around , wasting my day, waiting to see if they need me to work. I can never get time off to do ANYTHING.&lt;strong&gt; I never have money&lt;/strong&gt;. Never. Donnies always in Halifax when I need him, or somethings going on. I don't even have friends anymore, everyone has seemed to have found there path and ran away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I feel like my &lt;strong&gt;summer&lt;/strong&gt; consisted of renting movies and making pizzas. We did do a lot of walking. The only place I went this summer was amhesrt, 45 mins away. For a &lt;strong&gt;funeral&lt;/strong&gt;. Party!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Honestly&lt;/strong&gt; I am down in the dumps. And I have been for a while. The only good thing in my life is my family and Donnie. And I am lashing out on him and &lt;strong&gt;pushing him away&lt;/strong&gt;. I guess its how I deal. Which obviously isn't right. But hes been incredible. I couldn't ask for a better &lt;strong&gt;boyfriend&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115543354250983890?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115543354250983890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115543354250983890' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115543354250983890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115543354250983890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/08/somethings-gotta-give.html' title='Somethings Gotta Give!!!!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115491359924030995</id><published>2006-08-06T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-06T18:23:30.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>....simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Love me in the Springtime, when all is green and new,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me in the Summer, when the sky is oh so blue,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me in the Autumn, when the leaves are turning brown,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me in the Winter, when the snow is falling down.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me when I'm happy, and even when I'm sad,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me when I'm good, or when I'm oh so bad,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me when I'm pretty, or if my face is plain,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me when I'm feeling good, or when I'm feeling pain.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me always darlin', in the rain or shining sun,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me always darlin', after all is said and done,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me always darlin', until all our life is through,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love me always darlin', for I'll be lovin' you!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115491359924030995?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115491359924030995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115491359924030995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115491359924030995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115491359924030995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/08/simple.html' title='....simple'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115439635018929388</id><published>2006-07-31T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T18:39:10.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Congrats Jessika!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0088.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girls and two boys&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt; Me and My Dad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0073.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baby Jacob&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/000_2283.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/000_2283.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;Josh Jacob and Cherie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0064.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;  Me and Gillian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The weekend has past, and it was a long one. No Donnie and a long working weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jessika's grad party was great. More people showed up then I expected. I was surprised to see my cousin Cherie who's pregnant. I have not see her in a while, it was it was nice, and seeing her big belly was crazy. Its still crazy to think she will be a mother in 2 months. It made me happy to see all my family. We all got along great. Here are some pictures.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Donnie will be home in roughly 24 hours. Can't wait. Literaly!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115439635018929388?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115439635018929388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115439635018929388' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115439635018929388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115439635018929388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/07/congrats-jessika.html' title='Congrats Jessika!!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115396146220312974</id><published>2006-07-26T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T17:51:02.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i can't even feel the summer breeze</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;         Donnie called me yesterday morning to inform me that his shifts change this week so he will be inHalifax until tuesday. Which means we will be apart for 8 days. Which is depressing to think about, I really miss him this week. I have been sick with the flu and just more moody than usual and catherine gone all week to visit a friend in Bathurst. So, Im a lonely girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;         My sisters grad party is this sunday, and I am of course disappointed that Donnie won't be there. He hasn't met many of my extended family, and I really wanted him too. Im not sure how many people will come, because no one likes to come to Moncton. We always have to go to them. Im not sure if Im going to pick jessika up something, I already gave her a gift. I think thats enough. And not to sound selfish, but she never bought me a grad present. I have a feeling I am going to have to work. Hopefully it will just be a short shift.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;         I need to get away soon. I haven't been anywheres this summer and it driving me crazy. It doesn't even feel like summer, working and school. And never having any money to do anything. I hate it. Its a terrible summer. And its almost over, it feels like it just begun. Argh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;        Im so bored I guess I will go put a movie on and wait for Donnie to give me a call. Not that I have anything interesting to say to him. I just love to hear his voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;ciao&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115396146220312974?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115396146220312974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115396146220312974' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115396146220312974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115396146220312974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-cant-even-feel-summer-breeze.html' title='i can&apos;t even feel the summer breeze'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115321596218920314</id><published>2006-07-18T02:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T02:46:02.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0037.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0037.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0036.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0036.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0051.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_0049.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_0049.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/us.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/us.3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115321596218920314?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115321596218920314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115321596218920314' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115321596218920314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115321596218920314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/07/pictures.html' title='Pictures'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115318895755848584</id><published>2006-07-17T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T19:15:57.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>beeeeach</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We went to the beach. By we I mean me, cat, donnie and his sister jerrica. It was a blast. It was a great day to go, super hot. We played catch and tried to swim but there were too many jelly fish. Catherine atemped to build a sand castle. She bought some buckets and shovels, but it was soo packed on the beach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was glas to hang out with more people than just me and Donnie. Cat always feels like she would be the third wheel with me and donnie, so she never hangs out with us when I invite her. She completely wrong, I spend more time talking to her than donnie. He was the one left out today somewhat. It never bothered me to hang out with my friends and there bf's. We always had fun. I hope that she'll get over that and hang out with us more. I want her to become friends with Donnie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Of course... some pictures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115318895755848584?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115318895755848584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115318895755848584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115318895755848584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115318895755848584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/07/beeeeach.html' title='beeeeach'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115272821313729407</id><published>2006-07-12T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T11:16:53.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just alittle somethin somethin.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; do not think I am better than anyone,honestly, and I don't hate people. I just hate things that people do and most importantly don't do. Tell me why don't people bath, or shower, or get a sponge bath. Whatever your preference just do it. And why wear tube socks with shorts. You can buy ankle socks that tuck right in your shoes. If your too cheap, heres an idea. Cut your socks so that they are at your ankles. And they hide in your sneakers. And please no sandals and socks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing why do people feel the need to talk so loud and tell jokes to everyone on the bus? Not everyone thinks your funny. Please do not bring you 50 pages of jokes printed off on the computer and read it to the whole bus. I keep my voice quiet and respectful, atleast most of the time, why can't others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate stinky people. Deordorant! I can't stress that enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so I have nothing else interesting to talk about. Oh one thing, Donnie and I went to the Barnyard barbecue the other night. And it was fabulous. I tried cornbread for the first time. To me it tasted like bran muffins but they have this flavored butter and it was delicious. And I also tried sweet potato fries. Another good choice. The outside was crispy and the inside soft and moist. And sweet. Oh, my, Im craving them now. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115272821313729407?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115272821313729407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115272821313729407' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115272821313729407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115272821313729407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/07/just-alittle-somethin-somethin.html' title='just alittle somethin somethin.......'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115154635726132144</id><published>2006-06-28T18:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T18:59:17.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Money; hard to earn, easy to spend!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;I've been shopping all night. And it feels wonderful. I haven't had a real good shopping spree in months, so when my loan arrived I went crazy. Maybe alittle too crazy. But don't I always?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;Donnies run into alittle bit of trouble and Im worried about him. His car broke down in halifax, so he needs money to buy a part and he needs to fix it. Of course I came to his rescue and let him money for the part. I'm glad I can help him. But hes just soo stressed out, he had a rough day at work and hes soo over tired. Seems like everything that could go wrong did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;I wish I could cheer him up. I can't wait to see him on friday. I bought him two new shirts, and I know hes going to look handsome in them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;I hit my lower back on a door knob and I am in alot of pain. I feel like I bruised it right down the bone. Ouch. The bruise is soo tiny but it hurts like a mo'fo!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;Anyways back to my clothing spree. I bought really sexy wedges. I bought two pairs of dressy slong shorts, ones brown the other beige tweed. There styling. I got them at WAL MART too. I bought some cute graphic tees, one with curious george, one with a big pepsi logo ( I don't even drink pop but it looks cool.) I bought a few cute dressy tops, A 4 tank tops, a jean skirt. A white flowy shirt, and a work top. I really wanted a new purse but I couldn't find one I liked. And I need a new school bag, I will have to keep looking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;I was going to paint my room this weekend. But now my cash flow is alittle low. I might wait for my pay in a week. Or my GST check. I love money.. and I love shopping.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;Bed time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115154635726132144?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115154635726132144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115154635726132144' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115154635726132144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115154635726132144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/06/money-hard-to-earn-easy-to-spend.html' title='Money; hard to earn, easy to spend!!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115102928297274992</id><published>2006-06-22T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T19:21:40.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love him.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9884.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/102_9884.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;Its just the Beginning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115102928297274992?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115102928297274992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115102928297274992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115102928297274992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115102928297274992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-love-him.html' title='I love him.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115086915106401313</id><published>2006-06-20T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T22:52:31.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>if I don't answer Im pooooooooooping</title><content type='html'>Ive started my fasting/ laxatives for my colonosopy. First of all not eating for 32 hours is painful, especially in a house of 6. Everyones eating every second, something always smells good. Try watching t.v when your hungry, 80 percent of the commericals are for fast food, or some sort of food commerical. It drove me nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus on top of that I had to drink two bottles of laxatives. They are Horrible, the fowlest taste ever in my mouth. I mixed it with apple juice last night and 7 up today. 7 up masks the taste better. The OMG the taste is puktrid. If that is even a word. It taste like metal, very saltly!! Almost taste like blood would smell, salty, thick. Gross. Its takes like 15 mins to drink it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its now 2:46 am and I just finshed my second bottle and I am wide awake. My procedure is at 10:30. And I will be glad when its over. My mom says  I will be waiting around alot. Argh its going to be along day. I don't want to be sleeping all day because its jessica's prom. I want to see them all done up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I better try and sleep. Donnies in halifax until saturday. And I miss him soo much right now! I feel like crying!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115086915106401313?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115086915106401313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115086915106401313' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115086915106401313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115086915106401313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/06/if-i-dont-answer-im-pooooooooooping.html' title='if I don&apos;t answer Im pooooooooooping'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115051645954794366</id><published>2006-06-16T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T20:54:19.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lover</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have such an incredible boyfriend, Ive been a little hard on him for not buying me stuff and spoiling me as much. But even if he doesn't spoil me with presents, just the way he treats me is enough. Some days I just get greedy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;He is the most caring, thoughtful, sympathic and understanding guy I have ever met. Oh my goodness you wouldn't and can't possibly understand how much I love him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;He wrote me a love letter today!!! It was sooo sweet!! Something to add to my box!!;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Top 5 favorite things About Donnie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;His eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;Deep voice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;his thoughtfulness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;his laugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"&gt;hes patient&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115051645954794366?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115051645954794366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115051645954794366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115051645954794366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115051645954794366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/06/lover.html' title='Lover'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115024650139132855</id><published>2006-06-13T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T17:56:36.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling Pink</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; graduate on October 27!!!! Time has seriously flown by! I am excited to finish school and get out in the working world. My dream job to get with this diploma would be a secretary in a school. Or being an assistant of some big wig.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;N&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ot much is going on, I am beyond broke and feel seriously deprived. I can't remember the last time I went shopping. I am semi-patiently waiting for my loan. It comes in 2 weeks. Though, get this pretty much everyone else has already receive their loan. Im always the one waiting around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;N&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;ext week I am getting a colonosopy. I am excited. For the only reason that I would like to know whats wrong with me. Its kind of interesting to be able to see what my insides look like, my colon for that matter. I am just scared for the seditives. I don't like needles. Well no one does really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;his weekend was sooo much fun. Donnie and I kept ourselves busy in many ways. Friday night we went out to eat. Saturday we went double dating with his sister and her boyfriend bowling. Then we went to my house and watch "Last holiday". And Sunday we went to my oldest sisters apartment for a board game night. We played boggle, trivial pursuit the 90's versions and some card games. And Monday we went to the driving range. Which is one of my new addictions. And then we went for a nature walk and got caught in a down pour, so we cuddle under a shelter until it stop. It was soo romantic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;ime to watch Last Comic Standing!!! Go Josh Blue!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115024650139132855?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115024650139132855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115024650139132855' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115024650139132855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115024650139132855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/06/feeling-pink.html' title='Feeling Pink'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-115000341936331825</id><published>2006-06-10T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T22:23:39.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La Zone!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/dme.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/dme.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9847.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9847.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9850.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9850.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9851.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9851.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9860.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9860.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9846.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9846.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Bowling.&lt;/span&gt; Haven't done that in years. It was really fun. Like simple fun, well not simple I was very competative. I like to win. I wanted to get a strike. But I failed. Three strings and I didn't get one strike. Donnie got one on his first try. Its alot hard with the small balls. Jerrica and her bf nathan came with me and Donnie. They are a cute couple and a lot of fun. Heres pictures. How could I not take pictures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-115000341936331825?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/115000341936331825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=115000341936331825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115000341936331825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/115000341936331825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/06/la-zone.html' title='La Zone!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114909473079223806</id><published>2006-05-31T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T09:58:50.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick again!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Its been a while. Ive been sick. Like always. You'd think I don't take care of myself, for how may times I get sick in a year. This time its the stomach flu. Its weird Monday night Donnie and I went and played tennis. We were supurisingly fabolous for begginers, we played for about 30 mins and then I felt so sick to my stomach and the had worse headache. My whole body clentched up and my body was soo sore I couldn't even move. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;3 days later and I haven't eaten a thing. Atcually I lie. I have eaten yogurt, 2 spoonfuls of cherios and 3 pieces of pineapple. And a bottle of poweraide. IN 3 DAYS. Im gonna go weight myself. Good way to shed some pounds. Unhealthily I might add too. But oh well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Donnies now working in Halifax 3 days a week. Wednesday til Friday night. The first week was tough, I was really lonely, and felt lost. But its getting alittle easier. Im sure it will be normal pretty soon. Especially when he gets his first pay. We both have been excruciatingly broke for the past few months. Its such bummer. We haven't been to a movie or out to eat in ages. And I have not been shopping, which is stressful enough. I need some new clothes! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Schools well blah. Finished booking with a 90. I was sure I was going to fail, it was a really tough course for me, but in the end I enjoyed it and felt like I basically understood the stuff. I am now in Simply Accounting which suchs too. I don't feel like I know anything, becasue my teacher isn't teaching, hes just showing us how to do the stuff step by step. Im not sure if I will be able to do it on my own for the exam. Plus missing 3 days is not good. I know I miss alot of time. And40 percent of it is when im sick. But 60 percent is because its soo boring, and I hate it. I need to smarten up. Not gonna happen, I have probably already done my damage. Which means I have to find my ON THE JOB TRAINING, myself. I better start putting some thought into that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I think I will try and go eat something. Wish me luck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114909473079223806?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114909473079223806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114909473079223806' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114909473079223806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114909473079223806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/05/sick-again.html' title='Sick again!!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114778940785327532</id><published>2006-05-16T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T07:23:28.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I slept in. So now I can't go to school. Usually I wouldn't mind, but I didn't want to miss any time in this class in fear that I will fail. We are taking bookkeeping and numbers confuse me. Numbers send me into a stay of confusion, I write then backwards and never know where to put them. Missing one day is going to be like missing a year for me. So I am going to have to read my text box, and call up cat to come save me and show me what my little brain isn't understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terris wedding was this weekend and it couldn't of been better weekend. It was a beautiful and exhausting weekend. Friday night was the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Let me tell you I was quivering in my flip flops. I was the first to walk down the isle and I was petrified. I couldn't walk slow enough, and I didn't know who too look at. I kept making these awkward faces. I found it hard to smile. The day of the wedding just flew by. The wedding itself was actually only 30 mins or so. It was beautiful. Terri and Jeff looked soo happy and they both looked fabulous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand I look horrid. My hair was ugly. I was disappointed with it. I told the hairdresser a few things I didn't like and she pretend to fix it, but didn't actually, so I just gave up. I hate telling a stranger your not happy and it looks pretty. And my dress washed me out and made me look 20 pounds heavier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most wonderful thing about the wedding tho was Donnie came. I loved sitting up in the wedding party table and being able to look at him. He looked soo cute. And we slowed danced a few times. Im so glad he came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donnies gone away for 3 days to Halifax for some doctor appointments. So Im kind of lonely. I guess its time to call the girls up and catch up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114778940785327532?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114778940785327532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114778940785327532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114778940785327532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114778940785327532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/05/wedding.html' title='Wedding!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114723160252761149</id><published>2006-05-09T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T20:26:42.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY! IM 22 YEARS YOUNG!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114723160252761149?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114723160252761149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114723160252761149' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114723160252761149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114723160252761149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114671178886904722</id><published>2006-05-03T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T20:07:45.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate spelling tests</title><content type='html'>My posts seems to be getting very sparse. I just don't have as much time as I used to..A boyfriend takes up a lot of time, and so does sleeping. My number one pass time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive been sick for the past 2 weeks. Feeling really crappy. I went to the Doctors and I have to get some tests. Its mostly likely a stomach diease like Chrones. I'd just rather find out what I have and deal with it. And maybe fix it. I am just sick of being sick. I fear going out because I know I will have diarrhea, and my stomach is always bloated and my muscles are tightened and cramped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a good day. I felt semi good. Maybe because I didn't eat much. Its seems like eveything that touches my lips upsets my tummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to see "Friends with Money" with Jerrica and Kayla.I need some friends with money!! Lots of money, and they are generous and like to spend it on me lol. I really enjoyed the movie tho. It was funny and very believable. There was no set plot or story line. It just seemed like life. Real things that happen to people. I recommend it to everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go study 200 spelling words. I HATE SPELLING.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114671178886904722?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114671178886904722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114671178886904722' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114671178886904722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114671178886904722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-hate-spelling-tests.html' title='I hate spelling tests'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114593584400620764</id><published>2006-04-24T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T20:30:44.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>me and my man.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9568.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9568.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9355.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9355.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114593584400620764?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114593584400620764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114593584400620764' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114593584400620764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114593584400620764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/04/me-and-my-man.html' title='me and my man.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114593557349509102</id><published>2006-04-24T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T20:26:13.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He seduced me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;I try not to compare this relationship with my old one, but I ocasionally tend to do that. Actually I do it a lot. There are of course good and bad things, but I am trying to focus on the good things. I will admit I am not falling as fast for&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Donnie&lt;/span&gt; as I had for Mark. But whose to say that's a bad thing. With &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Donnie&lt;/span&gt; I feel like things are running smoothly, my feelings for him are flourishing at a calming pace for me. And for once I am relaxed in this relationship. I may of loved Mark more than anything in this world, but I was always walking on egg shells. I was filled with anxiety.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Donnie&lt;/span&gt; makes me feel secure with everything around me and I don't worry that tomorrow he will be mad with me, or he will see another girl he likes, or hes online chatting with girls. I trust him 100 percent and my mind isn't even occupying those bad thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;We are complete opposites, hes everything Im not. Hes shy, caring, giving, quiet, always thinking about others and always trying to please me. I on the other hand am selfish, loud, sarcastic, bossy and outgoing. I tell it how I see it and sometimes drill it into your head until you want to beat me. But I try to be a better person because of him. I see the way he treats me, which is even at all times. Hee hasn't lost his cool, or got mad at me. Hes always kind and caring. And always gives me what I want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;I am happy with this relationship. I think I might keep him around for a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114593557349509102?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114593557349509102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114593557349509102' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114593557349509102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114593557349509102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/04/he-seduced-me.html' title='He seduced me.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114477301142009840</id><published>2006-04-11T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T09:34:00.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its all in my eyes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I just finished a week off from school, and I was busy everyday. It just flew by. Ive been working a lot, well a lot more than I am used to. And my body's exhausted. I skipped school today because I couldn't even keep my eyes open. Right now I am actually thinking about going back to bed until I work tonight at 6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been planning out the Bachelorette party which is Saturday. I have spent so much money. I am getting bitter about this party because the other bridesmaid, hasn't really brought anything, and hasn't been helping to plan it. I am in the midst of making Penis nametags. But I am not sure if they really look like penises. I used peach colored felt and brown pompoms. There kind of cute, they will be attached to the girls shirts with cloth pins. I also made Terri's veil thingy to wear all night. Its made it with a Tiara and white material and I dyed the material pink at the bottom. Ive been wearing it aorund the house!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen Donnie since Friday, Im either working or at school or sleeping. But I think its sort of a good thing, because I have been feeling a little overwhelmed with him. I don't want to be in that relationship where you spend every day together and do every little thing together. I had that before and it didn't turn out so well. I want to be in a relationship when its cool to hang out with our separate friends, and its ok to go a few days with out seeing each other. I want to be able to hang out with a group of our friends, not just me and him. But he doesn't have any friends up here, so its a drag. Sometimes I feel guilty because I go hang out with my friends, he just stays home, and does whatever he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in a relationship is bringing out a lot of emotions I don't like feeling. It has its good side of course too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what I want, I want a vacation. A real one. Do you remember when you were a kid and nothing ABSOLUTELY nothing matter. Time was the last thing on our minds. I want that feeling back. I want to run around, do whatever I want and not have to worry that at 6 p.m. I have to work and the next morning I have school. I guess that is a big part of being an adult. You have a schedule, that you must follow or there are consequences. Wouldn't it be great to hop on a plane and go to a tropical place, and the only things on your schedule are tanning, swimming and eating. Not a worry in those big blue skies would be for me. That would be fantasic. Im gonna to back to bed and dream about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114477301142009840?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114477301142009840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114477301142009840' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114477301142009840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114477301142009840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/04/its-all-in-my-eyes.html' title='Its all in my eyes!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114412209164754819</id><published>2006-04-03T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T20:41:31.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Running out of time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have a bacherlette party to plan, which is in like 10 days. Well its not just me, but the other bridesmaid, which i have been emailing and trying to get together to plan this out, but we haven't. Im alittle ticked off, because nothing I MEAN nothing is planned. I don't even have many ideas?!!!And little money! Im stressing. Any ideas?????? HELP I know we are going to someone's place, party talk...games? Then to the clubs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114412209164754819?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114412209164754819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114412209164754819' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114412209164754819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114412209164754819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/04/running-out-of-time.html' title='Running out of time'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114359762358607530</id><published>2006-03-28T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T18:00:23.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ms.Crabs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/sony_ericsson_w600i_130x251.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/sony_ericsson_w600i_130x251.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I adore my new phone, its soo pimpin'! I feel so high tech and cool holding it. And I am constantly listening to music on it. I love it I love it I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SPRING IS HERE.&lt;/strong&gt; It was so beautiful today, and its suppose to be even nicer tomorrow. I think I shall wear one of my new skirts. Im gonna look soo purrty.&lt;br /&gt;Ok Ok.. you know how I hate to talk about people. Gossiping is a horrible habit mine. But get this, it needs to be said. Theres a girl in my class we will call her "PAM". Pam is always scratching herself. First of all her hygiene is not all that clean, but she's the nicest girl.He hair is usually greasy and short so it has like all these cow licks. I catch scratching her crotch, not just scratching but digging at her crotch. And shes always wearing splash pants so it this annoying sound. It makes me gag. She MUST have grabs or something. And she needs to get it fixed. I can't stand looking at her digging anymore. Im gonna up chuck my mars bar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114359762358607530?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114359762358607530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114359762358607530' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114359762358607530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114359762358607530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/mscrabs.html' title='Ms.Crabs.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114316951477142440</id><published>2006-03-23T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T19:09:14.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling like a Shooting Star</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I attended a baby shower for my friend last Saturday. Which was wonderful. It was cheerful, but a tad boring. She took 2 hours to open presents.I was ready to just run up and rip them all open. Who saves wrapping paper?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Terri's wedding shower is this Saturday. I was baffled as to what to get for a wedding shower gift. I've never been to one. In the end I looked at her registries and picked out a white turkey platter and a turkey baster. The baster actually has a brown turkey as the holder thingy. Its rather cute. I want to buy a new outfit for the shower. I want to get dolled up, I mean my friends getting married, I must look mature and well put together. And its another excuse to go shopping!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Schools a drag. I been missing quite a lot of days, which isn't good, because they could stop giving me my student loan. Im just getting sick of typing, I fall asleep. And all my friends are in the main building or in afternoons. I am soo lonely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tonight at work I had to get on my hands and knees with a putty scraper and scrap and dig gum, stickers and other gross food stuck to the floor. I think its time for a new job. This isn't retail, this is child labor.!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114316951477142440?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114316951477142440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114316951477142440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114316951477142440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114316951477142440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/falling-like-shooting-star.html' title='Falling like a Shooting Star'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114266499749501143</id><published>2006-03-17T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T22:56:37.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its all in his words.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9292.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9292.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9292.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In your intense eyes I see a fate, ones clear as the bluest sky on a warm summer day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You laughter makes me laugh, even in one of my foulest moods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Its like u carass me with your soft hands, and everything melts away, the chaotic thoughts in my mind subside if only for moments and the world around me fades away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your words always soft, gentle and kind, melt away the ice around my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I fear for my own words, I fear I am pushing you away, but I let my mind run and it is hard to catch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But you save me with your speech, your dedication and your sweet sweetness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was never good at being completely real with my heart, I can belt, rant and rave about any other subject, but when it comes to the sweet music from my heart I shy away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You are breaking through and you are opening me up. In a matter of time my heart will exposed for all your love.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114266499749501143?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114266499749501143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114266499749501143' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114266499749501143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114266499749501143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/its-all-in-his-words.html' title='Its all in his words.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114256115965819087</id><published>2006-03-16T17:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-16T18:05:59.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>blah blah blah</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9295.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9295.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ive been shopping for the past week. I got my student loan and my income tax. I am now waiting to get the new Sony cell phone. They were out the last time I was at Rogers. I hope they have some tomorow!!!Im excited.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Things are going great with Donnie and I. Weve been hanging out alot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;better post soon!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114256115965819087?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114256115965819087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114256115965819087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114256115965819087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114256115965819087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/blah-blah-blah.html' title='blah blah blah'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114228809427271129</id><published>2006-03-13T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T14:14:54.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He Bought me Tuips!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9266.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9266.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9267.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9267.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9261.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9261.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9235.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9235.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9256.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9256.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114228809427271129?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114228809427271129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114228809427271129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114228809427271129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114228809427271129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/he-bought-me-tuips.html' title='He Bought me Tuips!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114190132361084518</id><published>2006-03-09T02:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T02:48:43.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>alittle magic at the mall</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;I stayed home from school. I can't bare to type reports anymore. School is turning into a headache for me. I have a week off at the first of April. I racing through my calander!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;We went shopping today! We spend hour there. No complaints. He didn't drag his feet, he didn't whine, he was a pleasure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;What a suprise.I bought a few tops, some new make up and a movie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh and I bought a frame. He drew me a picture of a rose the other day, I wanted to frame it. It is beautiful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;We ate supper at Don Cherry's in the mall, his treat of course. This time I tried to pay. He wouldn't let me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114190132361084518?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114190132361084518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114190132361084518' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114190132361084518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114190132361084518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/alittle-magic-at-mall.html' title='alittle magic at the mall'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114178314633941737</id><published>2006-03-07T17:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T18:02:17.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Times a Changin'!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;Im feeling alitte dominating in this relationship. Donnie leaves everything up to me. He's overly laid back, but not just laid back, he wants me to like and enjoy everything. So I chose everything, I control everything and I do no wrong. I suppose this is all new and soon it will change.&lt;br /&gt;The only things I can find bad about him are actually good things, that are sort of annoying in my mixed up brain. WeÂve hung out all weekend. Very relaxed, and low key. A lot of cuddling and kissing. We went to dinner a few times. And of course he pays. He treated me to a binge at the bulk barn, loading up on tons of candies. And he bought me a new book and the cosmo mag. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;That was almost 30 dollars! Plus supper and a smoothie. A girls gonna be spoiled! I love it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;Hes very into me, as I am likewise. I just think not at the same level. Im not scared, Ive just been out of the game for so long, that it feels funny to have someone clinging to me. Someone calling me and messaging me. It feels nice. I just have a lot of mixed reactions. I like my independence. And he wants to spend a lot of time together. I feel like I always have to check in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;Ok enough about this. Its new. Im happy, hes sweet and cute. That's all that matters. Im am trying not to stress myself out, over these silly things. I need time and lots of it. He will be more confident and comfortable in time. This will be WON-DER-FUL!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114178314633941737?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114178314633941737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114178314633941737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114178314633941737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114178314633941737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/times-changin.html' title='Times a Changin&apos;!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114170401536985036</id><published>2006-03-06T19:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T20:02:19.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Date 2.</title><content type='html'>We've known each other for a week, but I feel more comfortable with him then I have with anyone else I've been with. We've been talking about it, saying how it just feels strange. But a good strange. Theres some connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sense I am probing for negative things in him, I think its a naturual reaction for me. Boy likes me,I get scarred. And now I like boy which makes me even more scarred. Its not that Im scared, its just I don't know what to do. Ive lost control of my thoughts, of my emotions. And I think I just wanted to make a bigger deal, make problems that aren't there. Don't ask me why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date 2- We went to an early dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we walked around the mall, just looking at things. He wanted me to look at clothes, but I really don't believe he wanted to, what guy wants to follow a girl around while she's shopping. I declined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we took the bus downtown, we were going to play pool, but we decided to stay on the bus, for the full bus ride. He's not from here, so we thought it would be cool to jump on some bus and just wander around. And thats what we did a 2 hours. It was cute, and sort of romantic. We were able to talk and cuddle. We talked about everything! We joked and laughed. Our first kiss was on the bus, we stopped at an old persons home, and the bus driver stepped off to run to the store next door. We were alone. I knew it was going to happen. You can just tell, when you eyes stare for a little longer each time. I lick you lips or smile, hoping to draw attention to them. I leaned forward and kissed him. It was sweet, 3 medium length kisses. No we did not make out on the bus. But the rest of the way home, we would randomly kiss here and there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our bus ride we walked down the street holding hands, and played pool for like 30 mins. I ve got bored. I wasn't really wearing the right outfit for pool. My jeans were low, and I was scared I would be flashing everyone my thong. I was consistly yanking them up and pullin my shirt down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to go back to my house, we jumped in a cab. And watched a movie upstairs. He met Jessika, my middle sister, who was the only one home. She thinks he's cute. She never thinks any of the guys I like are cute. She stayed out with us for a bit and talked. He was alittle quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night eneded with a kiss.Actually a few kisses!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114170401536985036?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114170401536985036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114170401536985036' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114170401536985036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114170401536985036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/date-2.html' title='Date 2.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114153219320581624</id><published>2006-03-04T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T20:17:15.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alittle late with this post.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;I have a few hours before the 2nd date. I'm feeling a mixture, both negative and positive. Everyones been telling me to stop over thinking. But thats me. Amanda The-Over-Thinker. I am less frantic as I have been in on other dates. I keep getting chills when I think of him, or what he is in mind, because he's sort of made up. Things I don't know about him, the way he acts, the way he talks, is all made up in my head. But I keep thinking of him placing his hand on my knee. It was soo suttle, but meant more than anything that night. It was a pure touch. It wasn't a touch of I want sex. Im horny. It was his way of showing me he liked me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;From talking to him online, he seems too nice. He seems too positive. And you would say theres nothing wrong with that, its better than being mean and negative, But too much of something is never good. He s trying to hard. But isn't that what people do on a date. Try to impress each other. I just don't want to be on a date with someone who is fake. I don't want to have to wait 2 months to see the real him. The cranky, spoiled boy. Yes i suspose you need to feel comfortable to be able to be yourself, and it is the only second date. But I want real, no games, straight forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;Yes I am going on about nothing. I may be the one to sabotog this relationship before it blooms. But isn't that what I always do? I rumble about mindless problems, things I hate, things that bug me. I swear this time, I will give him a fair chance. A chance that consists of more than 2 dates. I am open and ready for this. I just need to be more open, less permant. Its a hard thing for me to change. Its hard for me to accept people, people who are in line to be my boyfriends. Im scared. I always admit that. And I don't want to waste my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;But hes going to be different, i can feel it. Its this warm feeling in my belly. Its the sparkle in my eye. Hes nothing like Mark. I don't want to compair the two first dates. But, just their characters are differen't, their personalities, the way they carry themselves. Mark was all for show, loud, cocky, confident and all joking. Donnie seems reserved, gentle, sweet and a mommas boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;A mixture of both would be great. But whos to know Donnie might have all those traits, or I might be wrong about everything. His sister is loud, and funny, he shouldn't be far from her. But then again, they may be total opposites. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114153219320581624?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114153219320581624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114153219320581624' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114153219320581624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114153219320581624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/alittle-late-with-this-post.html' title='Alittle late with this post.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114127281598003818</id><published>2006-03-01T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T20:13:36.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smiling arces</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;2nd date on friday. And I am completely estactic. I can't even think straight. Im soo pumped. I think i better go out for a jog. He sent me the sweetest email. I couldn't stop smiling. Whats gotten into me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114127281598003818?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114127281598003818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114127281598003818' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114127281598003818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114127281598003818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/smiling-arces.html' title='Smiling arces'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114123612796094502</id><published>2006-03-01T09:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T10:02:08.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pubcrawl Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9204.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/102_9204.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9232.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/102_9232.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/434454.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/434454.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9189.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/102_9189.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114123612796094502?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114123612796094502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114123612796094502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114123612796094502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114123612796094502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/03/pubcrawl-pictures.html' title='Pubcrawl Pictures'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114118775057814124</id><published>2006-02-28T20:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T20:35:50.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dreamless</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"&gt;overcooked. spun out. anxious. over-reacting. suspious. fearful. disappointed. baffled. wide awake. sarcastic. outrageous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114118775057814124?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114118775057814124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114118775057814124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114118775057814124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114118775057814124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/dreamless.html' title='dreamless'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114097040216413411</id><published>2006-02-26T07:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T03:00:57.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Date!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I had a date last night! A real, honest to goodness date last night! My last dates consisted of making out, fighting, and drinking. My friend from school Jerrica set me up with her Brother. We had a double date. Movies and Dinner. Final Destination 3 was the movie. It was horribly gory, which meant leaning in closer to Donnie. Our knees touched, arm arms touched. His hand grazed my knee. There was minimal conversation. Spurts through out the night. But we all joked around a lot, and laughed a lot. I was nervous. More nervous because it was like I was on a date with 3 people, instead of one. Jerrica was always looking over to see if we were touching, or talkin, or having fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At Dinner, he rested his hand on my knee. It sent chills up my body. I held his hand under the table. It felt so great because things were just happening. Because I had butterflies, I was actually nervous. And I did not find anything wrong with him. I was content. Which never happens. I am giddy. I can't stop thinking about him. But I am worried. Because I am admitting I like him therefore jinxing myself into a failed relationship. I felt the signs . I was getting the vibe. But I talked to Jerrica online and she didn't mention anything. Which has to be a bad sign. And Im too scared to ask her what donnie thought. I don't want to get a bad response. So I am sort of going nuts. Im scared for once. Is it because I am not in control? For once maybe I won't be the one who has to hurt someone. Im the one waiting, and wondering and wishing.&lt;br /&gt;It feels horrible lol. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;P.s He paid for everything. Wow. What a gentleman!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114097040216413411?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114097040216413411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114097040216413411' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114097040216413411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114097040216413411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/date.html' title='Date!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114058246741544498</id><published>2006-02-21T20:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T20:27:47.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Cherry Pie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%2080.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/Picture%2080.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%2037.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/Picture%2037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%2027.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/Picture%2027.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture%2071.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/Picture%2071.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady of The night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Enjoy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Im too tired to write.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just went on a random driving trip alllll OVER moncton!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114058246741544498?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114058246741544498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114058246741544498' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114058246741544498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114058246741544498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/sweet-cherry-pie.html' title='Sweet Cherry Pie'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114041025052128999</id><published>2006-02-19T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-19T20:37:30.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...........................................</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I smell so good. I can't stop smelling myself. I was laying in bed watching "Grey's anatomy", and I keep lifting my arms to my nose, the smell has lasted a few hours now. I put this lotion on after my shower. It smells like baby powder and flowers. Its relaxing me. Which is surprising, because Im never relaxed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn't write about things that I have nothing to talk about. And maybe I ginx myself to set myself up for failure. But I get passionate and excited and I can't keep quiet. I can never keep quiet. I like to talk things over, or write things over, either way I need to get them out.&lt;br /&gt;I am actually thinking in my head whether or not I should divulge my information. I don't want to get ahead of myself. I always do. All I think I am going to say is a relationship or actually a courtship may be setting its self up. Its in the works and hopefully it will follow through. Because the clouds are parting just thinking about this new opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news I did not get student of the module. (Pretty much student of the class) I've been stepped over. Melissa got it, and yes she was in the running. I knew it would come between the two of us. She knew what she was doing. She had 1 mark higher than me.!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I m not sure what it came down to, maybe it was my attendance, I missed two days. Or maybe she liked Melissa better. But I was so confident, I was so positive that the award was coming to me. I helped Gladys everyday, I even skipped breaks to help her. I understood the material, some parts even better than my instructor. I rarely asked questions, because I learn better when I figure it out on my own.&lt;br /&gt;I feel cheated. I feel like I try so damn hard and I never get recongized. I am slowly giving up.&lt;br /&gt;And I should give up, because strong people who achieve everything they want just don't give up. But Im frustrated and angry. I should be happy for Melissa she worked hard. I've had perfect attendance and that didn't help. But for this class my perfect attendance might of been my saving grace. And I could be in all my glory. But who's to say any of that matters. I fear I will never accomplish my short and embarrassingly stupid list of things I want done in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114041025052128999?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114041025052128999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114041025052128999' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114041025052128999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114041025052128999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/blog-post.html' title='...........................................'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-114030254295315032</id><published>2006-02-18T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T14:42:22.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Value Village</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9181.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/102_9181.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;$5.00 purse. I love it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:180%;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;I haven't used it yet I saving it for warmer weather. Plus I just bought a new purse!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-114030254295315032?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/114030254295315032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=114030254295315032' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114030254295315032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/114030254295315032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/value-village.html' title='Value Village'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113996129998475055</id><published>2006-02-14T15:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T15:59:32.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Im seeing Red.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;Im the most boring person to talk to on msn. I don't believe in hello or goodbyes.So I usually start off with "whats going on" or I just jump right into a conversation. But I usually don't have much interesting to say. Things are new with me, but not nessarily captivating to talk about. Alot of my answers are used with the diverse slang "lol". Or "haha". Even if it isn't funny I laugh, even if Im not really laughing I say lol. I usually have nothing else to say so I fill the void with either of the two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's Day does nothing for me. I don't even really think about it, and I only do when people ask me "Did you get anything? Are you lonely?" NO and NO. I would much rather get a bouquet of flowers on a random day as a surprise. First of all I would be surprised and second I would be the only one with flowers. Today everyone has flowers. Some people I am sure, even bought them for themselves. But hey, whatever floats your boatIt was like a garden of red roses in my school. Roses are soo over-done. Don't ever get me red roses for any occasion. Today is Tuesday in my eyes. Pizza Day. Thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to see BrokeBack Mountain tonight. I've been dying to see it for the past months. I've heard rave reviews from my friends. I bought cherry twists and strawberries to snack on. I always sneak food into the theatres. I'll be damned if Im gonna pay 10 bucks for a bag a popcorn. I bought a small cup of Kool-Aid. It cost almost $5.oo. I could of went to walmart bought a package for 39 cents.Made it at home and poured it into a water bottle. CHEAP CHEAP. I don't think I'd go that far, though. But I do usually bring goldfish or candies. I need to be chewing on something!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;One time at the movies, I think it was "The Ring" I was on a date with Fred and down the isle from us, about 5 seats away were these 3 Big girls. Normally I wouldn't call them Big. Because what does it matter if they are fat. But it plays apart in this story. I started to smell something really delish. I assumed they had a pizza. There is a pizza hut booth at the theatres, but I never actually seen anyone eat pizza before. I turned to look and to my amazment they had a container of left over lasanga. No word of a lie. Another girl lugged out a 2 litre Bottle of pepis and started pouring into three plastic cups. All through out the movie they keep reaching into there Bookbags and pulling out chips and popcorn in ziplock baggies. These were the massive like freezer bags. No one told on them. I guess they didn't want to get in the way of these ladies and there food. To me it was soo funny. I've never seen anything like that before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am employed but I never work. Last week I worked 4 hours. This week zero. Who knows what next week will hold. My guess, 4 hours or under. I have been looking around for a new job. Which is such a hassle, I hate job searching, and applying. And then training. And then being the new girl for 4 months. Blah...!!! I have two baby showers and like a dozen different wedding events to go to. Which, of course, all need present. And no money. Plus I need new dress clothes. Money Money. I need a money tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113996129998475055?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113996129998475055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113996129998475055' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113996129998475055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113996129998475055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/im-seeing-red.html' title='Im seeing Red.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113986913762501916</id><published>2006-02-13T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T20:23:41.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the day I was a smaller girl who pouted.</title><content type='html'>I found these entries saved on a disk. I thought I would share my life 4 years ago with you. Im still whinng about the same things. But my writing seems soo crisp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 17/2002&lt;br /&gt;" Stood Up,Shoot Down"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At what point do you realize that you it's over?Most people make excuses, trying to find something to hold onto,find something that is still right and pure and then squeeze onto it.When your so empty inside you'll clutch onto anything and make up a reason why you shouldn't let go.But when you are so empty and you let this person fill your soul, how do you know when things are right and when they are wrong.All that matters to you is that you have something to ful-fill you something to ease the hunger.Though when times feel hard and you cry, you question yourself and you stop at the fork in the road.Which way do you turn? It's almost ridiculous, love that is.The only thing I truly yearn for is Love.And that is the I one thing that I have never felt.I am beginning to assume that I am to blame. I am at the point where I have no one else to blame but myself. I look around and everyone I see is in love or has been.They are all happy.And I am just struggling, hanging on by a thead.Is it because I am living in a fantasy? Is it because I am too demanding? Too controlling? Too unrealistic? Too un balanced and moody? I am trying so hard to understand what is wrong with me. Maybe I am just too dramatic too edgy.................??&lt;br /&gt;All problems arise when I think things are beginning to go well. I was excited because fred and I planned to go out tonight.Basically the only night we could before he left for home for Christmas. And he called me telling his cousin stopped by unexpectedly and was staying the night, so he had to cancel.What a kick in the bum, I was extremely excited.And now I just feel stupid for getting all ready to hang out and he cancels like it was nothing.He tells me he's sorry with an unbelievable tone in his voice and it's not his fault.And he says we'll plan something before he leaves.Which won't happen. I feel as if he has no time for me, or atleast he never makes time for me. Possibly it's because of his priorities friends, partying, sleeping whatever else is more important. Fine, if that's the way he feels then all he has to do is tell me.Again I feel as if I am being lead on, just a pawn waiting to be moved.Things are always planned around his time.Begining a relationship with no affection and never see each other outside of work doesn't seem to promising. But I need this soo bad,that's way I am holding out.I think deep inside I am aching for this to work.I need it in my life.I feel so stupid for crying for him and getting too upset.I could be just a drama queen being selfish and wanting him all for myself.&lt;br /&gt;I spend extremely too much time cooking up perfect scenes. Thinking I am living on a sitcom or in a romantic comedy, my plan never unfold and almost always happens the total opposite.I dream of spontaneity, romance, suprises,affection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enrty 7 January3/2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"stability"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stable life?Is it possible to have a stable life? I have been summarizing my life trying to find something stable to hold onto and I am empty handed. My life is onlt a jumble of ordinary days and light as a feather dreams. To try and believe that my family and friends are stabilized and controlled is insane.&lt;br /&gt;Anything I touch disappears, I guess it's a fact, I can not have any sort of routine or prediction. I am in a way like King Midtious everything he touches turns to gold.But everything I touch runs away. I don't have the nack to build bonds and secure relationships. I have never had a serious boyfriend, or keep a best friend. It must just be my personality, it's the way my mind works. I have this perception in my mind of how things in my life should turn out, how people should play certain roles. And I am usually disappointed with my unrealistic dreams.Why is it I can never hold onto a person? In the end sooner or later we lose touch and they leave me.&lt;br /&gt;I have so much to give but it seems no one wants my charity.Once I began to understand my life and figure out the world I loss myself and I am gone.It happens in seconds and passes in hours. I confuse myself with imperfections and the making of the world.You may now understand or figured out that I am generalizing everything on the basis of Fred and I's relationship, Though it's only one thing, it is a true reflection of my lonely life. It's slowly breaking me down, just like love does everytime. It changes me and I kick myself for ever believing that I would be lucky enough to fall in love and have love fall back in love with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113986913762501916?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113986913762501916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113986913762501916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113986913762501916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113986913762501916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/back-in-day-i-was-smaller-girl-who.html' title='Back in the day I was a smaller girl who pouted.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113969048303860909</id><published>2006-02-11T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T12:41:23.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>im really fake.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9157.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/102_9157.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113969048303860909?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113969048303860909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113969048303860909' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113969048303860909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113969048303860909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/im-really-fake.html' title='im really fake.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113967858870159847</id><published>2006-02-11T09:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T09:23:08.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>since when has black and blue looked so good?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Laura (my youngest sister) has now jumped on the bandwagon. Her and Jessika both feel superior because they have boyfriends. And because I am single therefore I am jealous. First of all I rarely get jealous, its just not an emotion I contain. I was happy for Laura, excited when I found out her and Brad got together. And now she walks around likes she's Queen, looking down on me. Maybe she should concentrate on her life and relationship and not worry about me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I never even say things to make myself look jealous. And if I do say something its just the truth.I suppose the sayings right, truth hurts. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All I said to Laura the other night was in responds to what to get Brad for V-day. I told her too many people go all out buying presents like its Christmas. I said it shouldn't be about the presents. She snaps at me "Your just jealous because you don't have a boyfriend." What the hell? I am flabbergasted everytime they say that to me. Someone has brain washed them. You don't need a boyfriend to complete you or make you happy. And maybe part of me wants to prove that. At this point I want left out of there relationships, because I don't need to but put down for whatever motive they have. Obviously it makes them feel better about themselves and there relationship.Or I hit a nerve with them in whatever I say. But there relationships leave little to be jealous about. And I suppose saying that makes me sound jealous. Thats there only defense. If they are happy, thats wonderful, but don' t think I am going to settle. I don't want OK, or just happy, or cute. I want it all, and more.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I now know why I rather be alone, because I can't deal with other peoples bullshit anymore. I feel like just leaving, running away, being alone. No more stories, put downs and screwed up lives. No more difficult friends, who I have to beg to hang out with or make plans and cancel at the drop of a hat. Just me, completely me. Sort of scary, but less of a headache.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can pretend like it doesn't hurt, but it does. Knowing that my sisters pity me and look down on me because of my dating status.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113967858870159847?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113967858870159847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113967858870159847' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113967858870159847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113967858870159847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/since-when-has-black-and-blue-looked.html' title='since when has black and blue looked so good?'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113937226457991237</id><published>2006-02-07T00:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T20:17:44.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I owe you the sunshine.</title><content type='html'>I paid a visit to Value Village with my little sister last night. Usually, buying clothing that someone has worn grosses me out. But I see so many people find  "steal of a deals" in second hand stores, I thought I would give it another go. I never have luck. Probably because I hate digging and I get quivers touching the clothes. I found an adorable handbag, its yellow and looks very designerish. [I will post a pic] And I bought a flower dressy top. Very cute. Total- 13.00. There was one women in the fitting room next to mine trying on Bras. Gross. Someone elses TaTa's were nestled in that Bra. Sweaty Tata's. Double gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Laura of course found like 7 tops. All very 80's/emo. Just looking at the clothes reminded me of the 80's. What a Fab time. I have fond memories. Back in the day I had a Cabbage Patch doll. Oh she was my morning glory, my sweet baby. Until one day my mother gave her away to the salvation army. I cried every night for my Black Cabbage Patch Doll. I used to feed her ceral, she has this hole in her mouth where the soother was supose to go, but I would stick milky rice crispies in the hole. What a rank smell that turned into. Any time I step into a second hand store, I keep a look out for Ella-May.I keep hoping she will find her way back to me. But I am guessing after 16 years she's pretty tattered and spoiled. I probably wouldn't even recongizine her or want to touch her for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have been thinking about is clothing. I need to start investing in more business clothing, seeing that I will be needing it soon. I can't wait to get a job where I can wear suits and skirts and look all pretty. And after work I would get together with the girls, still in our sexy business attire and go to a classy bar and drink a martini. That would be the life. Im kind of sad, because I need to lose my pouch before I buy anymore clothes. I have a &lt;strong&gt;muffin top &lt;/strong&gt;and its depressing me. But Im just to lazy to exercise, and I love food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a total break out of monster zips on my chin. I am so self-concious of the kids. I know everyone sees it. Before they would stare about my boobs, but now all the attention is on the massive zips. I have been putting cream on them and they have shrunk down, but there still gross.Speaking of gross, as we (meaning the bus) pulled into the school this morning, there was a car parked in the front of our school. And two people who shall remain nameless, were shameless making out. Get this, they are like 35. Everyone on the bus had a clear view of them and it was probably was the last thing I wanted to see first thing in the morning. Atleast park your car around the side, for your quick make-out session.Or just never kiss each other again, that would save the hassel.&lt;br /&gt;My cat Ice is sitting next to me. Hes my lap dog, he follows me everywhere. I think he hates when Im on the computer, because its usually really late, and he wants to go to bed, but can not go without me. So he sits next to me and sulks. Its soo cute. He adorable. I love him this much &lt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113937226457991237?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113937226457991237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113937226457991237' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113937226457991237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113937226457991237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-owe-you-sunshine.html' title='I owe you the sunshine.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113917179257091363</id><published>2006-02-05T12:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-05T12:36:32.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Purse... Bronze/goldish color!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/000_0676.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/000_0676.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113917179257091363?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113917179257091363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113917179257091363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113917179257091363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113917179257091363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/new-purse-bronzegoldish-color.html' title='New Purse... Bronze/goldish color!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113917160905809646</id><published>2006-02-05T12:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T02:48:53.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jolly Rancher Martini</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;WeekEnd Recap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;My Friday night was pretty much planned, but dickhead Joey cancels last minute yet again, we had to re-arrange our night. Thats probably one of my biggest pet peeve. Why cancel last minute. Why couldn't he called and said he didn't feel like going out anymore? He's seeing s girl so is life pretty much revolves around her. Sad. Im giving up on him for now. Obviously friendship is lower on his priority list. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cat, Joanne and I, had a Gals night. Had I known we were gonna just have a ladies night, I would of liked to get all dolled up. We went to Moser's for a late supper, and then bar hopped, getting drinks here and there. I guess the men heard us coming, because every bar we walked into was bare? Where were all the men? I have no clue. I suppose sitting at him cuddling on there couch with there girlfriends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyways the night was random. And you all know how much I love random.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Saturday was a busy day for me. I did like 4 loads of laundry and cleaned my room. Cooked dinner. Then my mom and I took a trip to the mall. I wanted a new purse desperately. I was sooo bored of my lastest one. I've had it since Christmas. I usually get a new one, once a month.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I bought two new sweater too. I was &lt;strong&gt;dieing&lt;/strong&gt; to buy some clothes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That night I went downtown with Kayla, a friend from school to see a play. It was called.&lt;br /&gt;"I love you, your perfect, NOW CHANGE." It was hilarious. I loved the play. We had pretty horrible seats in upper balcony. And I had this old man with a fat head sitting in front of me.And he kept moving. I wanted to slap him so hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The play was about , dating, sex, relationships, marriage, in-laws, divorce, babies, and death. There were 4 actors, 2 guys and 2 girls. There were about 20 some different scenes, in which they played different characters each time. It was really funny and very truth full. Talked about how awkward first dates are. Debating whither to have sex and when. 1, 2, 3rd date? There was a funny scene, my favorite one actually about getting a lawyer for sex. &lt;strong&gt;"Did you ever want to sue some one for not sexually satisfying you?"&lt;/strong&gt; You could hire a lawyer to come to your bed room and work everything out. What she would and wouldn't do and what he would and wouldn't . And then, there was a this couple saying testimonies. One women said I received 5,000 because he missed my G-spot. And the man said, I received 10,000 because she wouldn't go down on me. The crowd roared.!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The play was quite delicious!I was very impressed. I headed home around 11:00 and watched some Mad tv. And then it was lights out around 1 am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Today, Sunday. Ive been just relaxing. Mom and I ran over to Wal mart. Her favorite place to shop. She goes there EVERYday. We had to pick up some items for our upstairs bathroom. We are renovating it. Its starting to look really good.&lt;/span&gt; I also bought two more tops. A tube top to go with my new sweater and &lt;strong&gt;PRETTY&lt;/strong&gt; pink shirt. I don't know where i get the money. Seeing that I work like 10 hours a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;4:30..looks like its nap time for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113917160905809646?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113917160905809646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113917160905809646' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113917160905809646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113917160905809646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/jolly-rancher-martini.html' title='Jolly Rancher Martini'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113885462603758753</id><published>2006-02-01T20:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T20:32:14.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The day the world cried.</title><content type='html'>You answer the phone and its your loved one, their voice is muffled and sobbing. They tell you they have just called to say good bye and to tell you they love you. Just thinking of this bring goosebumps done my spine. I can't even fathom it. The only thing connecting you two is the phone line, you can't reach out and touch them, all you can say is everything will be alright. How hopeless do you feel. It has to be past hopeless, knowing they are going to die and theres nothing anyone can do about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just watched "Flight 93" the movie about flight 93 that was highjacked on September 11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shut my eyes and I can see that day.September 11. I was in school when I heard about the plans crashing. Actually everyone was running around. I remember Joey yelling, theres a bomb, planes are crashing. We are going to die. Every room with a TV was filled. Students crying, people in disbelief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching the movie, just made it 100 times more real. I don't even know what to say. I cried so hard during the movie, I sobbed, I was a mess. And then I cried in the shower. I cried for the people who died. I cried for there families left behind, for there unborn babies, for the country and I cried for the world. I know it has been a while, but its a tragedy. One that will never be forgotten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113885462603758753?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113885462603758753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113885462603758753' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113885462603758753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113885462603758753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/02/day-world-cried.html' title='The day the world cried.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113856991333028022</id><published>2006-01-29T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T13:25:13.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Labels.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Terri ------------ &gt;Determined&lt;br /&gt;           ----------- &gt; Classic&lt;br /&gt;            -------------&gt; Smug&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Joanne------------&gt; Rooted&lt;br /&gt;             -----------  &gt; Scarcastic&lt;br /&gt;                ------------ &gt; Boisterous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jerrica -------&gt; Outgoing&lt;br /&gt;                --------&gt;Exclusive&lt;br /&gt;                    ----------&gt;Introvert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kayla  -----------&gt;Pratical&lt;br /&gt;                 --------&gt;Organized&lt;br /&gt;                        ------------&gt;Quiet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lissa  -           -------&gt;Affected&lt;br /&gt;                 ----------&gt;Routine&lt;br /&gt;                       ------------&gt;Out Spoken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catherine  --------------&gt;Generous&lt;br /&gt;                          -------------&gt;Zany&lt;br /&gt;                           ------------&gt;Hermit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Joey        --------------&gt; Uncommitted&lt;br /&gt;                   --------------&gt;Comical&lt;br /&gt;                 ---------------&gt;Gulliable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Jessika  -------------------&gt;Stubborn&lt;br /&gt;                   -----------&gt;Sassy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;                 -------------&gt;Entertaining&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Gillian   -----------------&gt;Authoritive&lt;br /&gt;                  ---------------&gt;Long-winded&lt;br /&gt;                      ----------------&gt;Charitable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura         ---------------&gt;Unique&lt;br /&gt;                   -----------------&gt;Spoiled&lt;br /&gt;                  ---------------&gt;Clever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad     ------------&gt;Knowledgeable&lt;br /&gt;            ----------------------&gt;Cynical&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                      ------------&gt;Self-sacrificing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom           ------------&gt;Frivolous&lt;br /&gt;                -----------------&gt;Obnoxious&lt;br /&gt;           ---------------------&gt;Affectionate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113856991333028022?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113856991333028022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113856991333028022' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113856991333028022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113856991333028022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/labels.html' title='Labels.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113850675771154938</id><published>2006-01-28T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-28T19:53:04.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>im sitting here with my daisy dukes on. what are you gonna do about it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Why is it that you can not mix school friends with your regular friends. Its like oil and water for some people. It doesn't make sense to me. I love introducing new people, and I enjoy sharing my friends. But for SOME people they just don't want to share. Does it make them feel like they have more friends, or that they are superior because they have friends that I don't know. Or do they just not want to shre there beloved friends?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Im always running around like a chicken with my head cut off,trying to make plans, and inviting people. And when I suggest inviting their friends from school, or else where they refuse with some stupid excuse. Pardon me for wanting some diversity in my life, some new faces. Ever hear the saying " the more the merrier?". I feel like I am always the one introducing my new friends to my old ones. I am gernous, dare I say, with my friends. I don't want need to keep them all for myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113850675771154938?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113850675771154938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113850675771154938' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113850675771154938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113850675771154938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/im-sitting-here-with-my-daisy-dukes-on.html' title='im sitting here with my daisy dukes on. what are you gonna do about it?'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113798762754752021</id><published>2006-01-22T19:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T19:42:49.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Golddigger.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Getting drunk by candle light was my highlight of Saturday. I went to my friends house, Joanne with a few either girls and Steve and we drank there before the clubs. But around 10:30 there was this big crash and the power went out. It scared the crap out of me, because I was sure someone banged on the window behind me. And it was completely dark. But we hauled out the candles and it was actually sort of romantic. We took a few pictures and sat around talking and drinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;0 deuce as we like to call it was happening. I seen a guy from school and totally harassed him. Hopefully I won't bump into him at school because I will totally have to explain my drunken slur's. I don't even know this guy, I just seen him around. Kind of funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent most of the time on the stage, dancing. And tripping and swaying. I requested so many songs, I think the DJ had the hots for me haha. I must say that I kept forgetting that I was wearing a short skirt, and I kept doing things that u shouldn't do in a skirt. I think I put on a good show. Joanne and I worked on our tittie grab game. Caught quite a number of guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stumbled into my house at 3 am with a tub of sour cream, a cut from my ankle to my knee and dirty new suede boots. Damn I should of put that protection spray on them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rating------- &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;****&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113798762754752021?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113798762754752021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113798762754752021' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113798762754752021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113798762754752021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/golddigger.html' title='Golddigger.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113796452974128899</id><published>2006-01-22T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T13:15:29.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>u know what we did.?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/102_9098.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girls Night out!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113796452974128899?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113796452974128899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113796452974128899' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113796452974128899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113796452974128899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/u-know-what-we-did.html' title='u know what we did.?!'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113779606903133092</id><published>2006-01-20T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T14:30:59.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I like it. but I don't need it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I am quite perturbed. I went to my Instructor to pick up my exam marks. And I got 96 %. Which is stellar on its own. But compared to the class, I am one of the few without a 100%. Even the woman who has no clue whats going on in the class got a 100. What? How can this be. I guess it makes me the stupid girl in the class. I dunno if he marked me harder, or what. Like the woman lets call her Tammy. Tammy doesn't even know what &lt;strong&gt;undo&lt;/strong&gt; does. She has trouble highlighting text to format it. But the girl next to her helped her through out the whole exam. Lucky her. Ive heard it all, and I know I got a good mark. Im just disappointed in myself for getting one of the lowest marks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I had all these expectations, and hopes when I enter the doors of my college. It was a new leaf, a new step to be walked on. But Im feeling like its the same old rotten leaf. I haven't made many friends. No guys are chasing after me, or even looking my way. Im not at the top of my class. Everything is just mediocre. I guess its all in my hands, and I need to make the best out of what I have. And if I want something I need to peruse it. But these are all words, and words are easy to spit out, than executing the action.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Im heading to the 0 deuce tomorrow night. I am of course for once excited to hit the clubs. I am in desperate need of some drunken fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thats enough griping for now. Have a Freaky Friday Dudes and Dames.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113779606903133092?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113779606903133092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113779606903133092' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113779606903133092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113779606903133092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-like-it-but-i-dont-need-it.html' title='I like it. but I don&apos;t need it.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113707808504258173</id><published>2006-01-12T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T07:01:25.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Im sitting here staring at my screen, trying to spit off some sort of post. &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;My eyes keep darting at the clock and back to the screen. &lt;/span&gt;I have to catch my bus in 5 mins. &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Why do I limit myself.&lt;/span&gt; I should of gotten up earlier and prepared my thoughts so I could present you guys with a wonderful witty and funny post. &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;My audience awaits, and I don't want to disappoint, but clearly I will.&lt;/span&gt; The time is ticking by and I am now left with 2 mins to throw in a funny joke. &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;But I am so exhausted, my brain is still running on that hot dream about Fred Savage and in a hot tub.&lt;/span&gt; The time has come, off to school I go, and then straight to work. &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;What a life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113707808504258173?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113707808504258173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113707808504258173' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113707808504258173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113707808504258173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/damn.html' title='Damn.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113686850505715795</id><published>2006-01-09T20:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T20:48:25.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>tell me again why i get along better with males?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/boyz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/400/boyz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;male&lt;/strong&gt;   &lt;a href="https://secure.reference.com/premium/login.html?rd=2&amp;u=http%3A%2F%2Fdictionary.reference.com%2Fsearch%3Fq%3Dmale"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ( P )  &lt;a class="linksrc" title="Click for guide to symbols." onclick="ahdpop();return false;" href="http://dictionary.reference.com/help/ahd4/pronkey.html"&gt;Pronunciation Key&lt;/a&gt;  (ml)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;adj.&lt;br /&gt;Of, relating to, or designating the sex that has organs to produce spermatozoa for fertilizing ova.&lt;br /&gt;a. Characteristic of or appropriate to this sex; masculine.&lt;br /&gt;b. Consisting of members of this sex.&lt;br /&gt;c. Virile; manly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A member of the sex that begets young by fertilizing ova.&lt;br /&gt;A man or boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                     Synonyms:&lt;/strong&gt; male, masculine, manlike, manly, manful, virile, mannish&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113686850505715795?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113686850505715795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113686850505715795' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113686850505715795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113686850505715795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/tell-me-again-why-i-get-along-better.html' title='tell me again why i get along better with males?'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113675449188424123</id><published>2006-01-08T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-08T13:08:11.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its just one of those weeks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;Im beating myself up because I can't like Matt. I just want to be able to be able to like someone fully and when they like me back, I don't want to run away. I wish I could b sweet and sympathic. I wish I could be sweet and sympathic. I wish I could giggle and batt my eyelashes. But what I give is a a huge laugh, a few sarcastic remarks and a big push. But I guess that's just me and the only time I feel like its a bad thing is when a guy comes into the picture. Obviously I need to find someone who will make me feel comfortable and all my faults will be dusted with glitter and likes, not enough to end a relationship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113675449188424123?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113675449188424123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113675449188424123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113675449188424123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113675449188424123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/its-just-one-of-those-weeks.html' title='Its just one of those weeks.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113661436654095829</id><published>2006-01-06T20:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T22:30:47.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I used to pratice drawing hearts.But I was never content with my end results.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So I haven't really talked to Matt and what little conversation was minimal and impersonal. I do believe my tactics worked. I did things to push him away and sway his feelings. &lt;strong&gt;Mission accomplished. &lt;/strong&gt;Im not sure if I am relieved or troubled. I pretty much just feel the same. &lt;strong&gt;Back to square one. &lt;/strong&gt;I am disappointed that my life isn't shifting. But I think I know if my heart that I can't settle. Just a few days of dealing with matt made me realize I am not lonely. I am happily independent. And having someone if my life conflicts with that. So I either need to find a guy who can help me change that or doesn't smoother my independence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hasn't called me, or emailed me, this shows me that he's really not that into me and that he's not ready for something serious, if he was ready he'd be working around me. I did have a warm feeling in my chest knowing that I had someone to do something with after work. A guy to talk to and a chance to show him off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I remember about Matt from the last time we dated was that he listened to me, he opens me up and opened himself up to me.He ws enthused about my hobbies, reading my writing and complimenting my drawings. He was always saying nice things and reassuring me.So why am I so conflicted about whether we should be together. Whether we should try things out.&lt;br /&gt;Why do look and driving a car matter. Why do I care what others think? Why can't I just take him and be happy. I don't even know whats there. I think I want to try and have someone in my life. And I know matts a great guy. So Im leaning towards making myself liking him because he likes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I lost my chance am I disappointed? Or am I just jaded. I feel jaded, like I just shut off my feelings, shut off my tears, It actually feels worse. I feel like a robot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113661436654095829?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113661436654095829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113661436654095829' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113661436654095829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113661436654095829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-used-to-pratice-drawing-heartsbut-i.html' title='I used to pratice drawing hearts.But I was never content with my end results.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113643424132679939</id><published>2006-01-04T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T20:10:41.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Im a double agent.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is the game I play, the closer I get to a relationship the faster I wanna run away. Im terrified and I'll never admit it, though I just did. At this moment Im starting things with a guy and Im feeling so overwhelmed, like I can't breath, I can't think straight. And hes being so nice, overly nice, feeding me lines. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Hes trying to crack me open. But He'll never understand me. No one will. Ok I am p.m.s.&lt;em&gt;ing&lt;/em&gt; a little bit, but thats no excuse, I was unbelievly cold to him when we hung out. I kept pushing him away literally.I felt like he was invading me, not just my space, but my life. I told him he wasn't my boyfriend , so he shouldnt keep trying to cuddle with me. Its like I do these things to get a reaction, saying things to make guys mad or sad. I say things and do things to make him not like me. Because I am scared to take the chance, im scared to move forward. I fall fast and I always fall hard. So I decide to control the situation and push them away, make them hate me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But you know what when Im alone, I feel fine, I think about him and daydream. And wish to be in his arms and hear his laughter.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My heart won't forget the days of the past. And Im left haunted by him, though my feelings have subsided he still ruins everything. I need someone to fix me. Someone who can starighten me up and take the time to work through me. Hes out there.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113643424132679939?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113643424132679939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113643424132679939' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113643424132679939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113643424132679939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/im-double-agent.html' title='Im a double agent.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113623337766056451</id><published>2006-01-02T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-02T14:27:33.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple gestures.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I would look up and see the snow flakes in irregular shapes dwindling towards the cold ground.&lt;br /&gt;He'd take my hand and in tangle it within his, and I'd catch his smile.&lt;br /&gt;We'd laugh and joke, with our bellys jiggling.&lt;br /&gt;The butterflies would never completely disappear.&lt;br /&gt;I'd look out into the world and feel safe and content, and we'd keep walking along the road.&lt;br /&gt;With no words to simple and no smiles too loud.&lt;br /&gt;He'd wrap his arms around me and tilt his head towards mine.&lt;br /&gt;A kiss so soft, and gentle, but full of passion and fire.&lt;br /&gt;Our love could melt the snow. Our love could heal my heart. Could erase my past and let me start brand new.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113623337766056451?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113623337766056451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113623337766056451' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113623337766056451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113623337766056451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/simple-gestures.html' title='Simple gestures.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113614523938487191</id><published>2006-01-01T11:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-01T11:53:59.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pictures from new years...i took 121 lol</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_8989.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_8989.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9000.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_9033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_9033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_8929.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_8929.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_8934.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_8934.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_8964.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_8964.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_8956.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_8956.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113614523938487191?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113614523938487191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113614523938487191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113614523938487191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113614523938487191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/pictures-from-new-yearsi-took-121-lol.html' title='pictures from new years...i took 121 lol'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113611097647731127</id><published>2006-01-01T02:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-01T02:22:56.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/ladies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/ladies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ha&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;pp&lt;/span&gt;y &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;New&lt;/span&gt; Y&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;ea&lt;/span&gt;rs M&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;y &lt;/span&gt;Hunks and Hot&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;ties&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;yes I know its 6.21 am.. I just got home. what a night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113611097647731127?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113611097647731127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113611097647731127' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113611097647731127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113611097647731127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2006/01/2006.html' title='2006'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113553599717041133</id><published>2005-12-25T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T10:39:57.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas is Here</title><content type='html'>Its been quite hectic this past week. School only ended on the 23rd plus I worked about 25 hours and tried to finsh my shopping. I always spent one night as a hairstylist for all my sisters friends on wednesday. It was there christmas fromal, and it seems any formal or dance me &amp; jessika get suckered in doing 50 teenage girls hair lol. Oh well its all fun.&lt;br /&gt; Its is 2:38 pm in my house and everyone has gone back to bed. I am just about to conquer my room, it needs a really good cleaning. I had a wonderful christmas and recieved everything I wanted. I am excited to go to Amherst to see all my exteneded family. And Im it excited for boxing day sales and New years....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me rest up, I'll post a better post later one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113553599717041133?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113553599717041133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113553599717041133' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113553599717041133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113553599717041133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas-is-here.html' title='Christmas is Here'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113513703487714572</id><published>2005-12-20T23:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T20:01:22.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A doubtful mind is a useless mind.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I decided to demolish the thought of being with Alex, atleast for the moment.And I have every intention of doing so.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Even though the chances seem to be building a ladder right to my heart.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2 opportunities, to complete loses for words, I seem to be still in the running. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But I asked for signs and I received them, and I still don't know what to make of them.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; I complicate the situation. I analyze it, and dissected it, and leave this one moment into a dozen hand movements ,single words, and questions. It confuses me, I make to much of it and it becomes over thought. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A crush can be exhausting. Don't you find. ?You calculate in your head exactly what you will say to him and you work through numerous conversations to work with his changing reactions. Your sneaky, watching him, placing yourself in his foot steps. And then daydreaming. It takes up more time then I would admit. I don't believe I am up for the catch.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;EDIT- I forgot to mention Alex came into my store on sunday.It was a total fluke for me because 10 minutes before I was telling one of the girls I work with about him, I didn't even see him walk in. I just turned towards the newborn section and there he was standing, facing me, wearing his baby on his chest in a &lt;a href="http://store.babycenter.com/product/gear/baby_carriers/front_carriers/4861?stage=baby"&gt;baby carrier&lt;/a&gt;.The baby is a gilr and 3 months old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; He seen me right away. I was of course like always, speechless. He has that effect on me. I called Bridgett over and told her it was Alex. She of course yelled and pushed me towards him. But I declined and helped a few customers. I couldn't do it. I was literally feeling faint, I felt so hot and my cheeks were fire red. How silly is that. This crush is so silly. When I finally got the courage to go over and ask him if he needed help, I seen that Bridgett beat me to it. They had a conversations. My conversation! Hes very friendly and talkative. Then I seen her. She came towards him pushing a cart. I assume his girlfriend. But he told everyone at school he was single.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Either he is 1. single&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;2. they got back together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;3. Its the babys mother and they are just shopping together for there baby. They are probably on good terms and stil friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I believe its number 3.So I felt aliltte shattered. But he still stared at me with wide eyes. He definitely reconigized me and I think he looked rather happy to see me. He looked so cute with his baby, you could tell he very proud and loves to show her off. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113513703487714572?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113513703487714572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113513703487714572' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113513703487714572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113513703487714572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/doubtful-mind-is-useless-mind.html' title='A doubtful mind is a useless mind.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113486585521672736</id><published>2005-12-17T20:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T16:30:55.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>check yes or no.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;            &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;  I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; forgot to mention the most &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;crucial&lt;/span&gt; part of my story. I day that I finally had a &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;semi conversation&lt;/span&gt; with my lover, I looked horible. Ekks. Its &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Murphys Law&lt;/span&gt; right. The one day you aren't prepare, and looking your &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;worst&lt;/span&gt; you see the guy you are &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;crushing&lt;/span&gt; on. It was exam day, so I sort of rolled out of bed. I supose I didn't look that bad, but I didn't look my best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;         Im trying to &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;figure&lt;/span&gt; out why Im so &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;childish&lt;/span&gt; towards this crush, I tend to me cool and&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; collective&lt;/span&gt;. I tend to be &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;smooth &lt;/span&gt;and not so shy towards guys. But, in this case I feel like Im in grade school, pointing at him and &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;giggling&lt;/span&gt;. Butterflies in my stomach. I &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;barely&lt;/span&gt; know this guy and Im dreaming about him, planning &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;each word&lt;/span&gt; I might say to him. There just something about him that has attached itself to me. I feel like I was put under a &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;spell&lt;/span&gt;. Maybe its because this is the first real crush I have had since my ex. The &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;first&lt;/span&gt; real attraction and &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;interest&lt;/span&gt; I have shown in a guy. Its been so &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;long&lt;/span&gt;, I don't know what to do with myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"&gt;          I've been &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;inhaling a box of chocolate cover cherrys&lt;/span&gt;, I almost feel &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;dizzy&lt;/span&gt;. I need a break lol.:0)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113486585521672736?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113486585521672736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113486585521672736' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113486585521672736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113486585521672736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/check-yes-or-no.html' title='check yes or no.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113478324442449831</id><published>2005-12-16T21:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T17:35:55.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And he speaks....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I have made HUGE progess in my quest to get Alex lol. I had a semi conversation with him. My cousin used to work with him (she goes to school with me) and we were on our way down stair when he came out of the bathroom. And she called him over. And they began talking about there work. I just kind of looked around, I felt so stupid, and I was soo nervous, I was sure my knees were gonna give out on me. Then he talked about his class he was in, and I told him that class looked aweosme, and I heard alot of good stuff about it.I said a few other things. Butr I really didn't talk that much. And my cousin didn't introduce me. But I am excited anyways. I talked to him, I smiled at him, I got to look at him up close. I hear his cute voice. I feel like a little kid, I don't even know this guy and I feel butterflies in my stomach and I acted all giggly and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;What a great stepping stone, now I can only move forward. I need to see him again, talk to him. &lt;strong&gt;ASK HIM OUT!!!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I am soo super duper trooper excited. I can't stop smiling.!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;What a goof!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113478324442449831?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113478324442449831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113478324442449831' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113478324442449831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113478324442449831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/and-he-speaks.html' title='And he speaks....'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113462458949147142</id><published>2005-12-14T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T21:31:38.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you seen the light?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Does it make me any less of a Christian if I do not attend church? Is it a sin to say church is boring. One of the 10 commandments is "Tho shalt not lie." Right.. Well then I am just being honest, I get soo bored at church. And I rarely read the bible, though I should be dealt some credit for opening it up and reading a few verses at a time. That's a start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do pray every night, unless Im unbelievably tired or drunk. I pray a lot actually. Whenever I watch the news, I see horrible things happening in our world, killings, bombings, wars. I pray for the people I see on the news. Whenever I hear a siren fly by on the highway, like a habit, I stop in my tracks and say a quick pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even pray when people say the lords name in vain. It sounds silly. But I'll say Please God forgive them for using your name in vain, and help them learn it is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am a pretty good Christian, in my own way. I may not follow the traditional ways, I make my own. I think all that matters is that you Believe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113462458949147142?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113462458949147142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113462458949147142' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113462458949147142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113462458949147142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/have-you-seen-light.html' title='Have you seen the light?'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113426891058714436</id><published>2005-12-10T18:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T18:41:50.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I walk the road less traveled.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Do you ever look at your bare french fries and count out in your head how many trips it would take to get to the kitchen? Should you grab your plate and walk to the kitchen (1) and pour the ketchup on them.Then walk back to the living room (2). &lt;strong&gt;2 trips&lt;/strong&gt;. Or walk to the kitchen empty handed (1) grab the ketchup go back to the living room (2), pour the ketchup on and walk back to the kicthen. (3). &lt;strong&gt;3 trips.&lt;/strong&gt; Why do I always take the long way?I never stop and count on my hand which way would be shorter .And then, of course, I always miss the best part of the show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113426891058714436?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113426891058714436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113426891058714436' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113426891058714436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113426891058714436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-walk-road-less-traveled.html' title='I walk the road less traveled.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113410128728953646</id><published>2005-12-08T12:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T20:08:07.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>IF I WAS A RICH GIRL.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/normal_nicoleadam-koi1.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/normal_nicoleadam-koi1.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/EVEVEVEVEVEEA.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/EVEVEVEVEVEEA.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/normal_527.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/normal_527.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/lindsay_lohan028b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/lindsay_lohan028b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/normal_609_cropped.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/normal_609_cropped.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/normal_victoriadavid-beckham20.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/normal_victoriadavid-beckham20.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/normal_parishiltonshopping02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/normal_parishiltonshopping02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/normal_lindsay-shoppingkitson6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/normal_lindsay-shoppingkitson6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/normal_hilton-howunderwear16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/normal_hilton-howunderwear16.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/normal_lindsay-shoppingkitson6.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/normal_hilton-howunderwear16.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;O&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;u&lt;/span&gt;tf&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;i&lt;/span&gt;t&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt; I * l.&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;What a beautiful life it would be, if I was rich and could buy all the clothes I wanted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113410128728953646?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113410128728953646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113410128728953646' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113410128728953646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113410128728953646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/if-i-was-rich-girl.html' title='IF I WAS A RICH GIRL.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113393000815254893</id><published>2005-12-06T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T20:42:42.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I HATE EVERYTHING</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;I am hate having to leave 2 hours before class and getting home two hours after my class ends. I hate waiting at the bus stop for 30 mins. I hate my boring class. I hate come home and its dark out. I hate not seeing Alex, or any of my friends. I hate never having money. And I hate having to rush right to work after class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so low right now, not even low past low.I don't even feel low just numb. Knowing that I am unhappy with my life and there isn't much I can do about it. Im broke all the time, I can't do anything. I literally go to school, eat, work and sleep. And watch t.v. Thats it. Thats all I can afford to do, that all the energy I have. I am beginning to think going back to school was a mistake. I know that these are just the sacrifice I have to make so that I can have a better life, a better job and in the end more money. But It all sucks right now. I have no friends, no fun, no money, no love life and no excitement. I loved my last class and I enjoyed going to school. But this class bites, afternoon classes bite. Im trying to find something good out of it, but I can't. Class doesn't start until 1:00pm. Sweet..you'd think. I get to sleep in. WRONG. I have to catch the bus at 11 am. So therefore I get up at 9 to shower and eat and finish my homework.Class finish at 5pm and I don't get home until 6:30. I just need one good thing to happen to me. One thing to cheer me up. I can't even remember the last time I went out with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like Im not even living. I pass up so many opportunities because Im broke, or working or in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am aching to get student of the module. I worked so hard in my last class. I had perfect attendance,was never late passing in my assignments and did every bite of extra work there was. My marks were good, might not of been the highest, probably a high 80 or 90. But I have a feeling one of the suck ups in my class will get it. If you get picked you get your picture taken (loves it) and it gets hung up in the hall with the rest of the students of the module. One for each class. Just means your the best for that class. I want it I want it I want it. I wanna get atleast 3 before I graduate.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Christmas is coming and Im not really excited. We get two weeks off and I'll probably work most of it. At a job thats soooo boring. I am being cheap this year and I feel bad.I wanna buy my family soo much more. I wanna buy myself stuff and I never can.I haven;t bought clothes in forever,im hating my wardrobe right now.I need clothes to cheer me up.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Im not proofreading this stupid thing lol.. not in the mood. Lets play a game; how many mistakes can you find.LOL. Grammer, spelling,missing punctuation ,or just completely doesn't make sense lol.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113393000815254893?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113393000815254893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113393000815254893' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113393000815254893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113393000815254893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-hate-everything.html' title='I HATE EVERYTHING'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113375147929913456</id><published>2005-12-04T22:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T18:57:59.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It sure is shady under this rock.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/26.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/26.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;My weekend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Fast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Boring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Sleep T.V.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Eat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;What am I thinking?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Im tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;What am I gonna wear tomorrow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Should I run up stairs and get a glass of water?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;What am I worrying about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;What my final exam mark was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Will I have to work tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did I buy anything this weekend?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Ritz chips.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Skittles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Pot of gold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Hand lotion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Eye blue shadow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113375147929913456?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113375147929913456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113375147929913456' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113375147929913456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113375147929913456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/it-sure-is-shady-under-this-rock.html' title='It sure is shady under this rock.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113358805277218311</id><published>2005-12-02T13:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T21:34:12.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wish List. More to come!!:0)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/05741_c.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/05741_c.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/044242_beauty.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/044242_beauty.0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/gabbana_browna.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/gabbana_browna.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/ine_lightbrowna.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/ine_lightbrowna.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/0426G_c.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/0426G_c.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/Picture-097112006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/Picture-097112006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/13_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/13_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/87_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/87_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/DSC03047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/DSC03047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/01589_c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/01589_c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/0718B_c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/0718B_c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/05720_c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/05720_c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/14949_w.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/14949_w.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/16170_c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/16170_c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/044349_beauty.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/044349_beauty.0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/10171_c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/10171_c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/0423G_c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/0423G_c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113358805277218311?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113358805277218311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113358805277218311' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113358805277218311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113358805277218311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/wish-list-more-to-come0.html' title='Wish List. More to come!!:0)'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113349400674090645</id><published>2005-12-01T23:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T19:26:46.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>take a picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;Its funny when I read my horoscope and I don't like it I just go to a different horoscope site and find another one. And I keep looking until I am happy with what  the prediction says.  I dont even really believe them. Just if it says something about Love. Then I cross my fingers that it will come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113349400674090645?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113349400674090645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113349400674090645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113349400674090645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113349400674090645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/12/take-picture.html' title='take a picture'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113336569847017572</id><published>2005-11-30T00:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T20:18:19.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>he's a lamp and Im the table.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/044349_beauty.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My head hurts, I have been working on my 25 page exam review for the past hour. Plus I have been working on good new/ bad new letters all morning. Im so sleepy, I just wanna go home and crawl into my bed with my cat and sleep for the rest of the day. Its funny I washed some clothes on Friday and set them all my bed, and I have been sleeping with them piled up on the bottom of my bed for the past 5 days. I am such a slob, my room is trashed, even my bed is filled with make up brushes, homework and clothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much has been happening in my life since my last posting. I feel so drained, physical but more mentally than anything. I have been fretting over Alex, and I feel powerless. Though I hold all the power in my hands, I could easily walk up to him and talk to him. But I feel pathetic and scared. I feel like every day I go home and work up the courage all over again for the next day, just to be disappointed again.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like giving up, but then I see him walking down the hall and I get butterflies. Its all soo silly and so juvenile. Hes has over taken my head, my dreams. And I have no control. Maybe he is just something to help spice up my dull life, give me something to talk about, and something to look forward to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113336569847017572?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113336569847017572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113336569847017572' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113336569847017572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113336569847017572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/11/hes-lamp-and-im-table.html' title='he&apos;s a lamp and Im the table.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113328654458847154</id><published>2005-11-29T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T09:49:04.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>supose we fell in love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_8271.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_8271.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;My Kitty ice giving me a kiss.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_8281.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_8281.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Me. My arms look like giant hams lol.!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113328654458847154?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113328654458847154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113328654458847154' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113328654458847154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113328654458847154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/11/supose-we-fell-in-love.html' title='supose we fell in love.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113289092018323577</id><published>2005-11-24T23:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T19:57:45.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kanye</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;SUPER TIRED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/i24283686_75131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/i24283686_75131.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/watching.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 101px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" height="100" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/watching.jpg" width="129" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/i18558883_63624.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/i18558883_63624.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/i15425972_31622.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/i18558883_63624.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113289092018323577?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113289092018323577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113289092018323577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113289092018323577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113289092018323577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/11/kanye.html' title='Kanye'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113280577108256915</id><published>2005-11-23T12:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T20:16:11.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Number 200! Excellent</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_8007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_8007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cat is accident prone.&lt;br /&gt;He is two years old.&lt;strong&gt;fixed and Declawed&lt;/strong&gt; ($160)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;broke his hip &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cut his eye &lt;/strong&gt;($100)&lt;br /&gt;  ---------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;860 so far!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And now he cut his head. I have no idea how. But it won't heal. I think he keeps picking at it. I have no money to bring him to the vet AGAIN. So I bandage him up myself. He keeps trying to take it off. But it needs to heal. Its been about a week and its not better.!!!Argh&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_8004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/102_8004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The women who doesn't wash her hair wasn't on the bus today. It would probably take all day to wash her hair. Lets hope tomorrow she will come with freshly washed hair.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I seen Alex a few times. I think I like playing this game. Having something to look forward to. Someone to talk about and day dream about. Maybe that's why I won't talk to him. I don't wanna burst my bubble. If I never ask I'll never know, therefore I can keep dreaming because there still the possibility. Who knows. My mind is silly.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I've been looking for signs. But my signs aren't even really signs they are just life. So what if he walked by me.And if I seen him 3 times today. But Its fun to think that these signs might really mean something. Again it adds a little spice to my mundane life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113280577108256915?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113280577108256915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113280577108256915' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113280577108256915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113280577108256915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/11/post-number-200-excellent_23.html' title='Post Number 200! Excellent'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113263038731393232</id><published>2005-11-21T23:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T19:54:23.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Im gonna hum my way to your heart. Im gonna bake you cookies and smile as you eat them.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/meaq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/meaq.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#3333ff;"&gt;GHETTO BUBBLE BLOWER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_7989.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_7988.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/102_7995.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bus thoughts..Random ones at that.&lt;/strong&gt; (note this is what I think in my head while I ride the bus. Nothing is censored.)&lt;br /&gt;- Damn she looks like a sausage stuffed into that jacket.&lt;br /&gt;- I wonder if I put on too much perfume. I hope I don't smell too much. I hate it when people bath in there perfume/Cologne. Its gross and makes me sick. I hope Im not one of those people today.&lt;br /&gt;- HA, she didn't get her seat. Shes gonna freak. Why is she breathing so hard. She must of ran so that no one would take her seat. Ha sucks to be you.&lt;br /&gt;-I wonder if hes married. He looks like a married man.&lt;br /&gt;-Please don't sit next to me. Please keep walking. Please Please Please..... Yes!&lt;br /&gt;-I am soo tired.I don't know why that guy keeps staring at me. Damn I must be looking good!&lt;br /&gt;- Someone smells really bad. I wonder who it is. Ewww. I can't breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Every night I tell myself tomorrow will be the day I make contact with Alex. I will bump into him, I will say hello. I say this will be the day that something happens. A sign will be shown. A chance will appear. But everyday nothing.&lt;br /&gt;So I decided tomorrow will not be the day I talk to Alex. I won't say hello, I won't bump into him.And he won't even look my way. The chance will not happen. the sign will not be there. Tomorrow will not be the day. Maybe I need some reverse psychology. Or maybe I need to give up to get my chance. Things always happen when you least expect them to. When your not looking. They surprise you. Well guess what Im ready to be surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ewww theres this women who takes my bus every morning. She's loud. She rants and raves about everything. Talks about her grandchildren like there Elstien and the President. She annoys me to no end. She has this raspy loud voice. And she laughs like some wild animal. Anyways. Two weeks ago she got her hair done at the hairdressers for a Christmas party. Now he was soo busy that he had to do her hair 4 days before her party. But I guess she was fine with that. She wore her hair in this fancy up-do for 4 days. Alright alittle gross, but I guess you gotta do what you gotta do. Anyways Monday rolls around and she comes waltzing on the bus with her hair still in this up-do. Well oh mine thats gross. Its now day 6. I have been keep track everyday and guess how many days she has gone without taking it out and with out washing it obviously.????!!! &lt;strong&gt;GUESSSSSS!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15 DAYS!&lt;/strong&gt; She hasn't washed her hair in 15 days. EWWWWW!!!Her hair is all matted , her bangs are stuck to her forehead. And honestly her once &lt;strong&gt;whiteish/ grey hair is now a brownish yellow color. &lt;/strong&gt;Im soo grossed out!! Who doesn't wash there hair for 15 days!!!!!!!!!!!! Lets see how long this countdown goes on for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113263038731393232?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113263038731393232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113263038731393232' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113263038731393232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113263038731393232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/11/im-gonna-hum-my-way-to-your-heart-im.html' title='Im gonna hum my way to your heart. Im gonna bake you cookies and smile as you eat them.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113233160707048384</id><published>2005-11-18T16:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T12:20:51.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get out of my Way.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am in a rotton mood, you wouldn't want to cross paths with me. And its a shame because people have been trying to talk me and I can't mustard enough spunk to be nice to them. It started off because my mother would not pick me up after my exam. She worked the night shift last night. I told her I'd be finshed between 9:30 and 10. But she said she would be sleeping. I called her again at 10 when I finally made it to the mall and she was still awake. She still wouldn't pick me up. She said she was just seconds away from going to bed. I could feel my blood boiling. Steam was pouring out of my ears. I spent alomost 2 hours on the bus, but if my mother would of picked my up it would of been 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole time on the bus I was jumpy, I was hoping that we might be able to catch my transfer in time, but we didn't. I hate old people. The bus driver was old. He had to stop and check is lotto tickets, and then stratch more on the bus. I watched so many old people santer onto the bus like they were going to live forever. They waddled from side to side, smiling because they knew the bus wouldn't leave without them. There old, which means there special.&lt;br /&gt;The old lady in front of me picked her nose with every finger and then used the other hand. It was digusting. I just wanted to pinch the back of her neck. Or pull at her blue/sliver hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again the bus stopped and the bus driver took out a sandwich to eat. By this time it didn't matter becasue I had already missed my transfer, so he could sit there for an hour, then i wouldn't have to wait at the mall. But when I finally transferred it was packed. I was not sitting next to anyone.So I sat in the front.Not my preferrance. The guy kept starring at me. He was in front of me.Once, twice he looked. Three four five times he looked. By this time I was growling at him. As to say back off buddy. This kid couldn't of been any older than 18. He had yellow hair with black roots growing in. He pulled out his hard hat and made sure I seen it. And then he begun digging out tools out of his bookbag and strapped them on his tool belt. Now if this kid thinks a hard hat and a hammer hanging off his pants is gonna impress me , he better just step off the bus now. He looked foolish anyways. He looked like a kid playing dress up with his dad's work stuff. When he fianlly got off the bus, I literaly blew a breath of fresh air. I looked out the window and he actually turned around and waved. HA. What a doof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of all the days for me not to have a book or anything to keep my ocuppied. All I could do was insult people in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im cranky now because theres nothing good to eat and I have to work at 6. I actually hate working. Its soooo boring. Its never busy. I don't even think anyone likes me, they barely talk to me. All night you walk around asking people if they need help and re-folding the same shirt 578 times. My feet ache at the end of the shift because pretty much standing in one spot. And wearing all black is depressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113233160707048384?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113233160707048384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113233160707048384' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113233160707048384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113233160707048384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/11/get-out-of-my-way.html' title='Get out of my Way.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113220177603659030</id><published>2005-11-16T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T20:31:33.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Walk a day in my shoes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/scan.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/320/scan.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;i called in sick so that i could study all day. i had a 25 page midterm review to do. and i had to study for two tests. im pooped! Night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll leave you with my newes&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3197/954/1600/scan.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;t creation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113220177603659030?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113220177603659030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113220177603659030' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113220177603659030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113220177603659030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/11/walk-day-in-my-shoes.html' title='Walk a day in my shoes.'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11651052.post-113208352708591903</id><published>2005-11-15T11:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T11:38:47.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>5656942200479648</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I was at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="www.melaniesdawn.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;melanie's blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt; and she was talking about getting a credit card. This made me post about my devil of a credit card. Its been maxed out about a month after I received it. I always pay on it, but then I spend what I put on it like the next day. You guys have already figured out that I have a spending problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom read in a magazine you can put your credit card in a bucket of water and freeze it in the freezer so you can't touch it. And if you really need it you have to take it out and unthaw it.So it will make you think twice about using it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom thinking this would cure my bad habit took it out of my wallet and immersed it in an old butter container and stuck it in the deep freeze. A day later I of course panicked when I couldn't find my credit card. My mom calmly pointed to the deep freeze and said "Its in there". I looked in and marked on the butter container said "Amanda's credit card" And to my surprise it was actually in there frozen in a block of ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did work for as long as I had it frozen I put money on my card and couldn't touch it. But the second I unthawed it, I spent it all. I guess it time to chuck it back in the freezer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was quite a story to tell.I had to book a hotel room and they needed my credit card number to hold the room. She asked what the expirary date was. And I had to tell her I didn't know because my credit card was in the freezer. The women was quite puzzled, but I told her the story and she thought it was a smart idea.LOl..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my friends still laugh at me. They tell to be careful not to stick it in the microwave if I wanna quickly unthaw it lol.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11651052-113208352708591903?l=pinksandpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/feeds/113208352708591903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11651052&amp;postID=113208352708591903' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113208352708591903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11651052/posts/default/113208352708591903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pinksandpaper.blogspot.com/2005/11/5656942200479648.html' title='5656942200479648'/><author><name>Miss.Q</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13234181694622074517</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://pic.piczo.com/img/i44192801_51295.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
