<?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-9011336594470723143</id><updated>2011-07-08T13:32:12.095-07:00</updated><category term='woah'/><category term='Eighteen'/><category term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Off the Wall, Oddly Enough</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-4390246648582618658</id><published>2010-02-04T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T21:06:12.824-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy.</title><content type='html'>I've been away for about a week because I have just been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;busyy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yay&lt;/span&gt;. I finally acquired a sewing machine on Sunday, so that's taken up a great deal of time. I've made quite a handful of things (pictures soon of course) and it's been really really fun. I sewed a couple pillows with one in seventh/eighth? grade, but I didn't really remember. Of course, then I didn't have to do anything myself, it was just like, oh, here is the machine already ready, get to it. I actually had to learn how to do everything myself this time around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I will post about what I have made. I want to make clothes really bad. I think I should wait awhile though, until I am a little better at this. I just really want to get to the store to buy some fabric/thread etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;...Movie Reviews...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shrooms&lt;/span&gt; was stupid, as was to be expected. It had a run-of-the-mill ending, and was just really disappointing. I have decided that I do not like Paddy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Breathnach&lt;/span&gt;. This is the second film of his that I watched (the first being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Freakdog&lt;/span&gt;), and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;blahh&lt;/span&gt;. Typical typical horror movie crap. I want to write my own movie that has a different ending, an ending other than&lt;br /&gt;1. The protagonist has been the antagonist all along.&lt;br /&gt;2. The main character goes psycho and ends up in a mental hospital.&lt;br /&gt;3. The as-stupid-as-you-get girl transforms into the opposite of her previously weak, dumb and cowardly self and survives.&lt;br /&gt;4. A huge animal slaughters mostly everyone, the handful that is left kill it with an elaborate plan, then it is miraculously alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Invention of Lying was also really dumb. I was so excited because of my love for Ricky &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Gervais&lt;/span&gt;, but there were only a few funny moments. The trailer was totally misleading. By the way, Jennifer Garner/Ricky is just &lt;em&gt;weird&lt;/em&gt;. I really didn't like it at all. I thought, based on the preview, that everyone had to tell the truth. NOT blurt out every single thought in their heads. Every character being totally rude to Ricky and basically everyone else got old really fast. And also, Ricky was the only character that didn't follow the blurting thing. I mean, at least make it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;consistently&lt;/span&gt; stupid, if you don't it's like honesty=bullying. Basically this movie just tears down the idea of truth, (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;every thing's&lt;/span&gt; better if you LIE). I was especially bothered by a few scenes. Every morning Ricky encounters a depressed kid in an elevator who tells him about his suicide plans, and Ricky just shrugs it off. Then, he gets the ability to lie, and suddenly decides to tell the kid that people care about him. NICE. So that's a lie? What a horrible thing to depict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;re watched&lt;/span&gt; Seven Pounds today with Rachel. Before we started watching it I remembered the basic plot but then during the first scene it all came flooding back and I thought I was going to burst into tears. Of course, watching it the first time around that first couple of minutes seems totally harsh, but once you know what is going on... I dunno, it was just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;heartbreakingly&lt;/span&gt; sad. Will Smith is awesome in pretty much everything he is in, but I love how his character seems different than what's typical for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rachel hated it, just like I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate school. Every single night I tell myself that I need to go to bed early, but I never make it. I dunno what the ideal time would be. If I actually made myself go to bed, I don't think I would fall asleep. I'm not tired when I go to bed as it is. Then morning comes, and BOOM I am so tired. I describe my sleepy eyes as "owl eyes" because they just feel so huge on my face, but everyone acts as if they don't know what I am talking about/I am stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the summer I read a book called Let's Go Play at the Adams'. It was written in the seventies by Mendel Johnson. It has not left me alone since. I was really disturbed by it, which is odd for me. My constant thought was THEY. GOT. AWAY. WITH. IT. I drove myself crazy thinking about it. I was sobbing as I read the ending, that's how emotional it was. But then again, with the way it was written, I think the thing that scared me the most about it was how brutally honest, clear cut, and horrific. It was just empty in a way, like "this is what happened, and this was the result of that event, the end". It's just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;evilevilevil&lt;/span&gt;, and not subtle in any way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right after I read it a googled it and I found out that some guy had written a sequel (the original author is dead). I sent an email to be able to read it, hoping that if I read it I could forget the ending to the actual novel. I didn't get any response. Yesterday, though, an email was in my inbox with a link to a brand new website that the book is published on. I've read it already. It was actually really, really good. Surprisingly so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. I am tired of doing this now, so...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-4390246648582618658?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/4390246648582618658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/4390246648582618658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/4390246648582618658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy.html' title='Happy.'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-7439217016565844430</id><published>2010-01-28T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T11:45:43.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Know It's Going To Be A Good Day When You Wake Up Bawling</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/sixthbatch008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/sixthbatch008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom hates this. The wall by my bed is all scratched up (did I do it in my sleep??) so I sketched on a little crappy owl to detract a little from all the white marks in the magenta paint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/sixthbatch003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/sixthbatch003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's really nice not having to hunt for my phone when I want the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I still have a pile of movies on the T.V. stand. I dunno why, but I request things, can't wait for them, and then I don't want to watch them after I finally get them. I've only watched a handful. I still have Season 1 of Lost, James and the Giant Peach, Jekyll + Hyde, Rachel Getting Married, 24 Hour Party People, Shrooms.. and I can't think of what else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't really like watching "scary" movies by myself... not because I get scared, but because they aren't as fun. That is inconvenient, because my mother won't ever watch anything unless she decides to. I mean, she'll be sitting in her chair in front of the T.V., I'll ask her, and she'll say something like, "Oh, I'm falling asleep,", "Maybe later", or something of the sort. Then she'll sit there watching America's Funniest Videos for several hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/sixthbatch014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/sixthbatch014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tuesday was really nice. I went to work with my mom again, but this time I wasn't just observing a kindergarten class. I got to help them each individually with their counting and the alphabet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It was really interesting to see the differences in the teachers and in the students themselves. They were all over the board in terms of what they knew. For example, I had to show them a letter and they had to tell me what the letter was, the sound it made, and a word that started with that letter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;One kid was excellent. I was really surprised at his vocabulary. He had a word for every single letter, and they were words like  dinosaur, quilt, etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On the other hand, one of the girls couldn't tell me anything, and she volunteered "peanut" for about ten different letters. I helped her as much as I could, having her repeat words I chose for each one. She asked me what "umbrella" meant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Anyway, I really loved it. This second teacher, too, thought that after a day with her I wouldn't want to teach anymore. I don't understand why everyone thinks I'm going to back out on this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-----------------------------------&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Goodwill on Monday, and my mom bought toys as usual. I was excited to see that E.T. was in a plastic bag with a bunch of little plastic McDonald's toys. It wasn't until we got home that I discovered he was missing a hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/sixthbatch011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/sixthbatch011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Ouchh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I'm losing it, I think. I am never tired when I go to bed (I have been trying to force myself at midnight), but then when I wake up to get ready for school I feel exhausted. I usually sleep for a few minutes on the bus ride, but then the really cold walk into school usually serves to wake me the rest of the way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;But then... my classes are blahh. I managed to stay awake for awhile during my first class, Psychology, but my professor is just awful. Both of my new ones are &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;boring&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;boring&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;boring&lt;/span&gt;. My Mythology class would be interesting, but the guy's voice is just really monotonous even though it is English.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;---------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My moods have been really crazy lately. I'm stressed out about school in the worst way, the kind where you just block out the crap and hope it goes away. I don't need to say that it doesn't. Deadlines keep getting closer and closer, and every time I get a burst of inspiration I'm discouraged. I feel like no one knows me, and then I think about my life compared to everyone else's... I dunno. I feel terribly inadequate all the time. I dunno. I dunno.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-7439217016565844430?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/7439217016565844430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/you-know-its-going-to-be-good-day-when.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7439217016565844430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7439217016565844430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/you-know-its-going-to-be-good-day-when.html' title='You Know It&apos;s Going To Be A Good Day When You Wake Up Bawling'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-2215014783651859276</id><published>2010-01-25T17:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T18:39:35.934-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/secondbatch003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/secondbatch003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The second day of school wasn't any better. It's just dreadful now, and I dunno why. I'm whiny, so that's it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/9011336594470723143-2215014783651859276?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/2215014783651859276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/second-day-of-school-wasnt-any-better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/2215014783651859276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/2215014783651859276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/second-day-of-school-wasnt-any-better.html' title=''/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-5002951440406070690</id><published>2010-01-22T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T12:18:28.475-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wednesday, the first day of school, was completely awful. I don't like any of my classes. I thought I would enjoy my Psychology class, but no. The professor seems lost, and she didn't really make sense. She repeated herself, but it was like she would change one thing to make it seem like she was telling us something different all together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm holding out for my American Literature class to be the best. I had the same professor last semester, and he was always good for a million laughs. Most were unintentional, which are the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Mythology professor is English, and that's the best thing about him, or maybe even the entire class. He talks really slow. Despite that, though, I think that this will turn out to be the second most interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago Rachel came over and she had this huge bag that she had made out of a sweatshirt. I really liked it, so yesterday I took one of my mom's old nightshirts and started to make one of my own. All went fine and I was enjoying myself, then it was terrible. I snapped my favorite needle, I spilled my cup of water, and I sliced open my thumb with scissors when I was adding holes for a shoelace in the opening. Now the shirt's 75% finished in a heap on my bedroom floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yesterday we ran to Target to get some Spackle, then Rachel went to go see her sister's school play. I dunno, I was just so whiny yesterday. I felt terrible, like all heavy and blahhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I finally watched A Clockwork Orange. It was.. different. I didn't really know the entire plot when I first started to watch it, so I was sort of surprised by the moral issues portrayed. It was stupid of me, I know, but I didn't expect any. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really was an interesting movie. Drawing from it, one could take on the popular opinion that evil/violence is a product of environment. For example, Alex's actions were looked down upon, but lighter forms were all around him in the form of art. During his prison stint, he was "rehabilitated", and that was questionable as well. Alex wasn't so much cured as he was robbed of free will. So, I guess you could say that the main question of the film was "Which is more inhumane, the conditioning or the violence?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what, though, I think that it would be interesting to read the book. People, my parents included, have said that this is an inappropriate film, but I know that the actual novel would be much, much worse. That's how it always is. (Especially with Chuck Palahniuk adaptations).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just glad I finally watched it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my next "project" is to watch all the movies by the Coen brothers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-5002951440406070690?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/5002951440406070690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/wednesday-first-day-of-school-was.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/5002951440406070690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/5002951440406070690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/wednesday-first-day-of-school-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-3451060910090092994</id><published>2010-01-19T18:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T18:50:32.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i.imgur.com/kVyiF.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 550px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i.imgur.com/kVyiF.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-3451060910090092994?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/3451060910090092994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/3451060910090092994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/3451060910090092994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post_19.html' title=''/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-8919349330653595931</id><published>2010-01-18T23:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T23:45:07.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmm</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love this picture.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://celeborama.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/Hannah_Spearitt_and_Andrew_Lee_Potts_Photoshoot_0011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 408px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 544px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://celeborama.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/Hannah_Spearitt_and_Andrew_Lee_Potts_Photoshoot_0011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-8919349330653595931?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/8919349330653595931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/hmm.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/8919349330653595931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/8919349330653595931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/hmm.html' title='Hmm'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-5173399176836072932</id><published>2010-01-18T19:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T23:23:06.067-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clock Ticking</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Seriously, who would pay thirty dollars for these?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am really surprised that the ticking of my new clock hasn't driven me insane. I only noticed it last night because someone called me at three in the morning, and I wasn't really aware.. then I heard it and it kinda woke me up the rest of the way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway. I am really sad, sort of, because tomorrow is my last day of freedom. And you could barely call it that. I'm going to church to help Mommo, so I have to get up early. Don't get me wrong, I love going, so I guess it's the school worry that's taken hold of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, some really quick movie reviews:&lt;br /&gt;I went to go see &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;The Book of Eli&lt;/span&gt; today. I pretty much had no idea what it was about, but I thought it was really good. I thought I was going to cry at the end. One part of it was really surprising, which was awesome. I love those post-apocalyptic movies, dunno why. I always wonder what I would do if stuff like that ever happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Denzel Washington was great as usual. I didn't know that Gary (my)Oldman was in it, so that was a pleasant surprise. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Red Mist/&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Freakdog&lt;/span&gt; was pretty much a bust. Andrew-Lee was conscious for about ten minutes, and he was kind of a creep. Arielle Kebbel was retarded, and the movie had the typical mental institution ending. Why is that used so much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://gfx.filmweb.pl/ph/43/24/114324/80333.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 390px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://gfx.filmweb.pl/ph/43/24/114324/80333.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did like &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Dead Fish&lt;/span&gt;, though. It was really weird, and weird is kinda my thing. Andrew-Lee had a big part in it, and it was odd to see him star opposite Gary (my)Oldman. Billy Zane was really funny. Dunno, the whole film was wacky. I'm really glad I watched it today; I almost passed it over for Caffeine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Woot woot. A partial solution to my messy closet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch001.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure I like the whole "pointy toe" thing. These shoes remind me of Emma Watson whenever I look at them. I hate feet.&lt;br /&gt;They made their debut at my cousin's bowling birthday party, which was good, because they came off right away. I wanted to take my bowling shoes home. &lt;p align="center"&gt;Bowling was really fun. I'm not sure what would be considered a good score, but I am certain that it's not what any of us received.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch004.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;You know what I am mad about? The remake of &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Death at a Funeral&lt;/span&gt;. It'd be a different story if that movie wasn't available here or something like that. But no, it's on Showtime all the time and so easily accessible... a remake makes no sense. I also think that it's weird that Peter Dinklage is playing the same character. I love him, but wouldn't that be sort of monotonous? &lt;p align="center"&gt;I started reading a book yesterday called "When You Are Engulfed in Flames". It's by David Sedaris. Recently, I've really enjoyed reading essays and memoirs, which is new for me. I usually just read fiction. A change is nice, though. I also got a book that is a collection of stories about war. I haven't started reading it yet, but for some reason it's in the bag that I carry around with me everywhere. My dad was shocked when he saw it, but then he had to be insulting/ his idea of funny, by saying that I was finally going to read something good. Oh well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I really want a pop tarts shirt. It'd be cool, even though I don't eat pop tarts anymore. It'd be like reminiscing, &lt;em&gt;shirty style&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-5173399176836072932?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/5173399176836072932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/clock-ticking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/5173399176836072932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/5173399176836072932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/clock-ticking.html' title='Clock Ticking'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-1563029477962619251</id><published>2010-01-15T23:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T23:53:44.528-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother/Daughter Day I Guess, Minus One Daughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Today was a lot of fun. Mom and I left Diana at home (by her choice, not ours) and went shopping. It makes me sort of sad that I can't resist Target, though. Most of the time I end up with something that I really like and then I can't bring myself to put it down. I found this mustard yellow cardigan, but it was ten dollars and I couldn't believe myself but I almost bought it. What is with me and sweaters? But I found a wall clock for my room. It's sorta just a plain old thing, but I think it was necessary. I hate always having to look for my phone to check the time when I'm getting ready and such. Ahem. Back to the day- sorry about the unnecessary tangent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;After we finished Targeting and Kohl'sing, we went out to dinner. I can't even recall the last time we went out together, just us. It was really nice, we laughed and talked about school and a bunch of different things. I see her every day, but we usually just cover the basic stuff, you know? Throughout the rides we listened to Jim Gaffigan. That man is funny every time. (Oh, and I'm going bowling tomorrow Harley)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We went to go see The Lovely Bones after dinner. I don't go to movies that often, unfortunately, but I'm glad we went to see this one. Dunno, even though she creeped me out in Atonement, Saoirse Ronan is amazing. She's really pretty, but then again when you think about it she's just one of those people that look really weird but are appealing anyway. Not that I have a crush on her or anything, mann. You know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I cried throughout the entire film. I read the book months ago, so there weren't any surprises, but I was really curious about how images would play out onscreen. The settings on Earth were awesome, but I really do think Peter Jackson went a little over board with the In-Between. It just wasn't right. Some parts were really good, like the scene where Susie Salmon meets the other girls who are trying to help her move on. Sounds dumb, sorta, I know, but it is really moving. I think that he was just trying to make it all as shadowy and dark as possible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now, I've seen a heck of a lot of slasher movies, but I really thought I was just going to through up in one of the final scenes: the one with the sinkhole. *Shudder* It was just awful to watch. I really hate when the audience knows so much more than the people in the movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Rachel Weisz was really good towards the beginning, but then her character kinda dwindled away. I just feel like there is so much more she could have done. Maybe it's not her fault... she didn't have a lot of screen time. Susan Sarandon was a good, straight-forward character. She showed no signs of grief, which I took to mean that she was just ballsy and knew that nothing would change. She knew what no one else did: that there would be no retribution or revenge, and that would be that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Stanley Tucci was soo creepy. The scene where Lindsey is in his house is absolutely shivery, and his eyes... ugh. The scene with Susie is played out pretty well, and there's just this moment where you know for sure that he's... evil. For those that read the book, I think, like me, you'll start watching and then just think, after seeing all the characters come to life, that it'll end differently. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mark's character was alright, just alright, and that's all I am going to say. There will be no Mark bashing here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Anyway, this film just goes along with the depressing thoughts that I've been having lately. It's supposed to be uplifting, in a way. But it just... didn't work that way for me. No matter what happened with Susie and her In-Between, she was still gone. I just couldn't get around that, even when I read the book, and that means that there is no chance for a happy ending.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, I'm tired. Tomorrow I'll have a post with stuff I bought, I guess.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch010.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Now it's time for bed. Yayy, knee socks, my snowflake pajama bottoms, and my slippers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fifthbatch012.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;Oh, and Shutter Island looks bomb.&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/9011336594470723143-1563029477962619251?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/1563029477962619251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/motherdaughter-day-i-guess-minus-one.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1563029477962619251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1563029477962619251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/motherdaughter-day-i-guess-minus-one.html' title='Mother/Daughter Day I Guess, Minus One Daughter'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-501480256398715639</id><published>2010-01-14T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T23:55:14.859-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Library!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S1AWfXG7J5I/AAAAAAAAAIw/kWmS_Ywcau8/s1600-h/sleepy+tippie.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426862279016261522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S1AWfXG7J5I/AAAAAAAAAIw/kWmS_Ywcau8/s320/sleepy+tippie.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Today was a sleepy day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the library with my mom, and the librarian took all my holds off the shelf but then she hesitated, causing my mom to say, "Oh, I thought those were ALL yours." They were, yup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how diverse everything must seem when my stuff is being checked out. But I hate that my library sucks. Their book selection is really limited, and they are all either mysteries or romances. Come onn, if you've read one romance you've read them all. Books in the young adult section are wayy more imaginative, and the plots are amazing. Too bad I've practically cleaned out the selection. =( I did get a few books out today, though, from the new book section. I do that sometimes, just to prove my point, it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, why is the Jim Gaffigan cd I checked out in the Rock section? That makes no sense at all...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited about the movies I got out, though. I got a movie called Freakdog, which I will be watching pretty soon. Andrew-Lee Potts is in it, of course, and so is Arielle Kebbel. I love her, dunno why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S1AT3Y5ci_I/AAAAAAAAAIY/17ekwoDnYP8/s1600-h/DSC00723.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426859393278577650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S1AT3Y5ci_I/AAAAAAAAAIY/17ekwoDnYP8/s320/DSC00723.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; Thanks, Grandma. I found this picture and remembered how much I mean to you. Lawll.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Vampire Diaries is starting up again on Thursday night, so that means that I will have two idiotic shows to watch every week. The whole teenage drama thing is stupid and overdone. I'm kind of excited, though. Even though the show is pretty lame, Paul Wesley and Ian Somerhalder make it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which reminds mee. I got season one of Lost. I really hope that I like it. I like distractions from reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh what are we doing/ we are turning into dust/ playing house in the ruins of us/ running back through the fire/ when there's nothing left to save/ it's like chasing the very last train/ when it's too late, too late&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Broken Strings, James Morrison&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha whenever I sing this song I think about the Kohl's incident when I was "alone" singing along, and then I turned around to see an old lady staring back at me from the next aisle. I could only see from the middle of her nose up. Ahahaha, good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coincidence of the Day:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Two days ago, I recorded Dead Poets Society. Today, I noticed that movie was mentioned on the DVD case of a movie called the Browning Version. Thennn right after I was thinking about that, I started setting Roseanne episodes to record, and the forst one was the episode called Brain-Dead Poets Society. It might not seem like a big deal, but stuff like this happens every single day. Why?? It's going to drive me crazy. &lt;em&gt;Just kidding.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm already crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-501480256398715639?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/501480256398715639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/library.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/501480256398715639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/501480256398715639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/library.html' title='Library!!'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S1AWfXG7J5I/AAAAAAAAAIw/kWmS_Ywcau8/s72-c/sleepy+tippie.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-5473242823545781722</id><published>2010-01-13T20:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T21:50:39.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Is Unusually Dark... So I Guess it's Time for Some Laughs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S06ktCoGygI/AAAAAAAAAHw/fCTJ7CbuYTg/s1600-h/college.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426455694734182914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S06ktCoGygI/AAAAAAAAAHw/fCTJ7CbuYTg/s320/college.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last year's poster... ahahah I really hope they repeat their mistake for my turn...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Every time I think of this thing I always say it really weird in my head. It gets more exaggerated the more I think of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I did end up going to work with my mom, but I stayed in a kindergarten class for most of the morning. It was awesome. I think the teacher thought staying in there would break me from my goal of being a teacher, but it really didn't. I would love to teach. (And then there are those other reasons: June, July, and August ahaha.) Seriously, though, I had a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was really tired when I got home, though. I hate forcing myself to go to bed because I know I have to get up early, and I really hate waking up tired. It just doesn't make sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The scary thing is, I have school in a week. Soon the 6 o'clock will be an every day thing. Realllyy dreading that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sooo I will just make the best of the time I have left, I guess. Tomorrow is basically the only day I have completely to myself, so I'll get up, have some oatmeal, and hopefullyyy write some poetry. Or finish what I start tonight. I feel inspired =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Then, Friday my mom and Diana will be off from school, so I don't really know what is happening. Saturday, ugh. Sunday is church, and then on Monday I'm spending the night at Mommo's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S06lUAnj-7I/AAAAAAAAAH4/fipnRO8X1f0/s1600-h/doll+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426456364209929138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S06lUAnj-7I/AAAAAAAAAH4/fipnRO8X1f0/s320/doll+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ahahah good times, good times... no wonder no one stopped at our yard sale this summer.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So.. since school is starting in a week, I'm going to just say now that I'm not going to study. That will make it easier when the semester starts and I don't do anything. So I'll just be completely honest with myself, instead of being that fakey-me with goals to stay on top of things. I mean, it's become a habit, and I don't really want to break it now. I've gone three and a half years doing nothing, why not finish things that way?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I do have plans to get this scholarship crap done soon, though. I want to be able to stop worrying about that so that I have more room to not worry about other things. Haha. And I also need to get a job. Blahh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S06oRRiOzMI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/dkFDzfnZqbc/s1600-h/r2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426459615746247874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S06oRRiOzMI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/dkFDzfnZqbc/s320/r2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lawllly. I fouund iittt..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm bored.. so bye.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-5473242823545781722?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/5473242823545781722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/it-is-unusually-dark-so-i-guess-its.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/5473242823545781722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/5473242823545781722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/it-is-unusually-dark-so-i-guess-its.html' title='It Is Unusually Dark... So I Guess it&apos;s Time for Some Laughs'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/S06ktCoGygI/AAAAAAAAAHw/fCTJ7CbuYTg/s72-c/college.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-6771993264356719311</id><published>2010-01-12T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T13:38:33.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monotony</title><content type='html'>I am getting so sick of just being trapped here day after day. Every day just blends in with the rest. I get up, do some laundry, clean a little, read, make dinner, and stay up all night watching movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I actually have something to do and I rebel. I have to go to this scholarship meeting at school today, and I've been dreading it. Even though I'm bored. How does that make sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scholarships themselves are bugging me. My parents keep begging me/ telling me to get to work on them, but I just don't want to admit this is happening. But on the other hand, my biggest worry about college is being able to get a car in time. wtf? And the scariest thing is that I really do feel like I'll be able to let go really easy. It might seem cliche, but I am tired of these people and this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm escaping the house to go to work with my mom. Hahaha. I guess that will be okay. Hopefully we'll go see The Lovely Bones on Friday. I read the book and it was one of those simple but awesome reads that make you cry with one well written sentence. Andddd the movie has Mark Wahlberg, which is always a plus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a better note, though, it's been a week since I decided I wasn't going to eat junk anymore. It might sound stupid and typical but I really do feel better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-6771993264356719311?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/6771993264356719311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/monotony.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/6771993264356719311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/6771993264356719311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/monotony.html' title='Monotony'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-8400805111859418187</id><published>2010-01-11T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T23:18:59.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahem</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.tvworthwatching.com/werts/dexter_dexter-rita.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 499px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 323px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.tvworthwatching.com/werts/dexter_dexter-rita.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm taking a break from my Andrew-Lee Potts scour of the internets to write about &lt;em&gt;Dexter&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. First of all, I am obsessed with this show. Michael C. Hall is a brilliant brilliant man, and his real life wife Jennifer Carpenter is a stunning actress. But that's beside the point. If you haven't already heard, for some weird off the wall reason, this show is about a serial killer. Who kills other serial killers. Advertisements of the show, in fact, have called Dexter "America's favorite serial killer". He has a wife, a sister, and three kids, and claims to have no emotions. However, that little tidbit is tested every single episode, and it's sort of a game to see just how much you can root for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is a lot. He is a very likeable man, believe it or not. He does care deeply about the people around him, no matter what he says, and he is... oddly charming. He was emotionally scarred at a very young age, which invokes pity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The settings and the music set to dramatic scenes could be seen as making light of tragic events, but in some way they do not. Instead, they show viewers the truth: that even though something awful happens in one place, it does not matter much in the whole scheme of the world. I believe that this is a way of showing how Dexter believes himself to be; uncaring and detached. However, it mirrors society today instead, showing us how jaded we are. The show might as well be a documentary. I'm sure feelings would be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no doubt that if people stick through the show for all four seasons, they are indeed rooting for Dexter. A killer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course something like this would cause controversy; a show in which viewers constantly find themselves empathizing with a killer. Does the fact that he only kills other murderers justify his actions? Couldn't you lump him in with vigilantes such as Batman, if you look at it in a different light? I mean, Batman is something celebrated, and kids especially are exposed to him. Batman has a secret life as well, and I'm certain anyone would tell you that the character enjoys what he does. What is the difference between them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This show is constantly shoving the issues of right and wrong in your face, and that is something that many of us try to avoid. Death is scary to everyone, I think, and "entertainment" like this could cause much uneasiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are taught since childhood that harm towards others is wrong, and not to respond to violence with violence. Yet, the death penalty is legal. I've been linking that issue together with &lt;em&gt;Dexter&lt;/em&gt; for a loonngggg time. It's easy to state that you don't believe in the death penalty, but once you bring it down to your level, it's a different matter entirely. Most people take the stance that it depends on the situation, but ultimately, who decides when it should be used? I think if you do not agree with what Dexter does, regardless of the fact that he enjoys what he does to the fullest capacity, then you should also shun the death penalty. And vice versa. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After every single episode I find myself thinking about this and then I drag on to reality and how I will never really find any answers. It's madness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I am trying to say is that this show is not some sadistic &lt;em&gt;thing&lt;/em&gt; warping minds, but something of worth that raises questions in everything; the world in general, and especially ourselves and our own beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I got to any particular point with this; I kinda rambled on and on. I hope it makes sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-8400805111859418187?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/8400805111859418187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/ahem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/8400805111859418187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/8400805111859418187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/ahem.html' title='Ahem'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-438881201975070490</id><published>2010-01-10T19:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T23:04:32.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La La La</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fourthbatch020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fourthbatch020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was my favorite magnet out of the group I made for the craft sale. Both fortunately and unfortunately, I got to keep it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I hate this vacation.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; There's been nothing to do but think, it seems like. I just feel worried all the time, and nothing will stop it. I just clean, read, and mope around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, I am watching a movie called Gigantic. It has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Zooey&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Deschanel&lt;/span&gt; and Paul &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dano&lt;/span&gt; in it, and the Showtime summary said that Paul sold mattresses and wanted to adopt a Chinese baby. That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's only been a few minutes and Paul was beaten by a creepy homeless guy who looks a lot like Zach &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Galifianakis&lt;/span&gt;. It's definitely going to be strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I still have another week and a half before going back to school, and I think I'm going to go crazy. I've read almost every book that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Augusten&lt;/span&gt; Burroughs has written, I've watched a ton of movies and I've spent a lot of time shopping for useless crap that I don't need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love these. My mom got them for my birthday, they're Avon's Advanced Techniques Pillow Curlers.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fourthbatch019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fourthbatch019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My hair is naturally curly, but weird. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I really hate how I look in pictures, hence the half a face thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fourthbatch014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fourthbatch014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Went to church today.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fourthbatch016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/fourthbatch016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have a lot of trouble going to church and then being the way that I am. Everything I do seems so inappropriate after several hours in church, but I really love watching and reading questionable things just for the moral issues they portray.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For example- Dexter. Tomorrow, I will post a more detailed explanation of what I am trying to convey. It's just, there is not always a clear right and wrong, and I love picking things apart for "secret" meanings and feelings. It's like I am trying to get to know myself by watching horrible things. Dunno.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Okay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; now a laugh. I watched Burn After Reading the other day, and my dad thought it was hilarious. He found a soundboard for it, and decided to call my mom and leave a message from Brad Pitt's character. After he finished, I told him to do the same thing to our house phone, so he dialed from his cell phone. A little caller I.D. box pops up on our t.v. whenever someone calls, and his phone is under my mom's name, so when he looked at the box he thought she was actually calling. He jumped up and ran to the phone, and picked it up. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hahahaha&lt;/span&gt;. I had to tell him that he pretty much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pranked&lt;/span&gt; himself before he actually understood. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-438881201975070490?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/438881201975070490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/la-la-la.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/438881201975070490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/438881201975070490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/la-la-la.html' title='La La La'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-1894054808591907495</id><published>2010-01-08T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T23:13:18.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty Normal for a SnowStorm-Expected Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am so, so sad. Primeval is over, and I dunno when I will be able to watch it again. I'll even miss cute little Hannah Spearitt. I'm still kind of in the middle about it, though. It is stupid, I admit it. But also good. Dunno how that's possible. Hopefully, the library will hurry itself up and receive my movies. I might die of an Andrew-Lee lack. That has a strange ring to it. &lt;em&gt;Andrew-Lee lack&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Which reminds me, this is what I went to bed to yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/thirdbatch006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I really love my Mom.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;I underestimate her sneakiness.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;(I sewed that on my pillowcase in a feeble attempt at Queen Anne's Lace. Template found at &lt;a href="http://www.rosylittlethings.typepad.com/"&gt;http://www.rosylittlethings.typepad.com/&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;These are the wrong type of shoes to wear on a really snowy, slushy day.&lt;/strong&gt; I almost fell several times during the trips to Target and Kohls. Once I got home I had to exchange them for my snow boots, yayy for shoveling!! Hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/thirdbatch009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/thirdbatch009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My grandma went shopping with us, and then we went out to lunch. I guess it was alright. Complaints are always expected about everything in these situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New cardigan! While shopping with Rachel a few weeks ago I got a pink and grey striped one, and it opened the door, or something. (I REALLY need to stop buying clothes.) The necklace was a Christmas present =)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/thirdbatch001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/thirdbatch001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I found this at Kohls in the Christmas aisle (which, by the way, was almost completely cleared out). It was fifty cents, and I didn't realize until I got home how weird it looked. What kind of snow iss that?? Poopy snow. That glitters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/thirdbatch002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/thirdbatch002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, Diana and I started to watch the second season of Pushing Daisies. Whenever we watch a series on DVD I double check the disks so that they are in the right order. EXCEPT for this time. And it turned out to be the only time that they were ever out of place. So... we watched the final episode first. I can't believe this. What kind of luck do I have? It kind of just drains the excitment out, and I feel like it's not worth it to watch the rest. &lt;p align="center"&gt;But I will watch. I love the whole quirkiness of it, and I really like how there seems to be a bit of everything entwined. There's mystery, suspense, a great lot of comedy, clever dialogue, romance.. Plus the gorgeous designs. It makes me want to wallpaper everything, aha, and wear skirts all the time (ooh done!), or maybe just kidnap Lee Pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;======================================&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I'm really tired. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soooo...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I'll leave you with this lovely picture of Andrew-Lee. Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.zap2it.com/media/photo/2008-08/41542498.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 350px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.zap2it.com/media/photo/2008-08/41542498.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-1894054808591907495?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/1894054808591907495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/pretty-normal-for-snowstorm-expected.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1894054808591907495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1894054808591907495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/pretty-normal-for-snowstorm-expected.html' title='Pretty Normal for a SnowStorm-Expected Day'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-1736066231969787130</id><published>2010-01-07T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T22:43:02.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More Snow, Just a Bit More Entertainment</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/secondbatch002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/secondbatch002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I cleaned a little again today, then started to do some laundry in the basement. I heard a fluttering noise, and it sounded pretty violent. There was a bird in the chimney! The fluttering stopped and I thought maybe it had somehow made its way out, but I knocked on the bricks and it started up again. We don't actually have a fireplace, it's pretty much just there, but there is this small door right near the floor. It looks really old and it kinda sticks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I didn't want the bird to die, so I opened up our side door and shut the door to the basement so it couldn't get in the rest of the house. I tried taking a picture, but I couldn't get the door open with one hand, sadly. When I got the door open nothing happened for a period of about ten seconds, and I just stood there waiting, then all of a sudden a little brown bird whoooshed out of the chimney as fast as it could. I screamed. I couldn't help it, and I wasn't expecting it at all. It was So. Loud. And genuine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Turns out there is a piece of bread in the chimney. Nice one, bird. Just risk your life for a scrap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;While cleaning my closet yesterday I found this scarf. I think it's so weird when I find stuff and then feel like I have never seen it before in my life, ever.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/secondbatch013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is my closet. Yeah, still looks messy, doesn't it? It's just so&lt;em&gt; small&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/secondbatch005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/secondbatch005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Here's a picture of Tippie! growling. Not very menacing. I made those pillows over vacation.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/secondbatch010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/secondbatch010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I am very sad that there are only two more episodes of Primeval to watch. I was getting used to having Andrew-Lee Potts in my living room with me every day for hours. Ah. Well, I did manage to get some of his movies from the library, which makes things a bit better. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;When I like something, though, I have have have to watch it religiously, whether it's a once a week show or what. Then, when it's off the air, I kind of lose interest. For example, when Dexter was playing, it was like I lived for it. I couldn't wait for the next Sunday's show the second one ended. Now, it's been a few weeks, and I'm alright. Not dead.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;But still. I watched Alice several times, and this Primeval show kind of sucks. It's not what I expected at all, but I guess it is worth it just for the actors.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Oh, and I also got season two of Pushing Daisies. Not, THAT show is great. It's really cute, and I adoooreee the sets and clothing. Dunno how to explain it really, everything is just... whimsical. I just can't believe that show was cancelled.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oh well&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, off to reminisce with some Roseanne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-1736066231969787130?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/1736066231969787130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/more-snow-just-bit-more-entertainment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1736066231969787130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1736066231969787130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/more-snow-just-bit-more-entertainment.html' title='More Snow, Just a Bit More Entertainment'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-3201693870455115881</id><published>2010-01-06T22:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T23:04:14.907-08:00</updated><title type='text'>As Moody As It Gets...</title><content type='html'>I don't know, the day started off fine. I have been putting off giving my room a "super clean", so as soon as I got up today I got to work, taking pretty much everything out of the starting point, my closet. I have so many pairs of shoes I have been trying to figure out where to put them all week, and I have a pretty small room/ closet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I got started though it was pretty easy. I have two of those plastic three drawer units in my closet, and I put the leftover shoes in there, but then I was stuck with a bunch of stuff that had been in there previously, like a million little travel bags and gloves. And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;thenn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I got caught up with reminiscing. That ALWAYS happens to me. I found a bunch of my Harry Potter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;merchandise&lt;/span&gt;, like my Hedwig backpack from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;elementary&lt;/span&gt; school and a 16" Kelly doll in a red dress. Ha, I remember wanting that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; bad for Christmas.. I cut the picture of it out of the Toys "R" Us catalog and I used to carry it around with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I looked at all my stuff I did finally get my room back together, except for a few things here and there. I did forget to take a "before" photo, though. Now if I only post the afters it will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;prolly&lt;/span&gt; look like they should be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;befores&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ahah&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, after I finished up cleaning I made chicken and rice for dinner, and it went downhill from there. I don't know what was wrong with me; I just had a monstrous headache and I was doing my laugh/cry/laugh/cry thing, which I hate. It only makes my mother laugh at me, which makes it worse, and I feel awful forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, tomorrow I have nothing to do, so I promise I will take some pictures. I hate text only posts. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-3201693870455115881?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/3201693870455115881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/as-moody-as-it-gets.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/3201693870455115881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/3201693870455115881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/as-moody-as-it-gets.html' title='As Moody As It Gets...'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-3747795570724789820</id><published>2010-01-05T14:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T15:14:20.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowy</title><content type='html'>It's been so snowy and cold, and I've been holed up here for the past few days watching Friends reruns and Primeval (which is okay, by the way).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, here we go... &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the craft sale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;I had prepared and prepared for this thing. I've always wanted to have a table at one since I was little, and when school started I decided I was actually going to do one. My church usually holds one in the spring and one in December for Christmas. It was December 5th, and I had a ton of stuff. I don't even know how much money I spent on the materials, but holding table itself cost twenty dollars, and Harley paid for half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom had had surgery the day before, which pretty much made me sick with worry even though this type of surgery is pretty common. She did great, though, thank goodness. I set the table up the night before, and we were at the church by eight the next morning. Harley came soon after with her collection of baked goods- she had about five types of cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pretty much awful. It was like there was a forcefield around the entire table. Once people got to us they would make a beeline for the other side of the aisle. Every. Single. Time. I think Harley made a total of three or four dollars. I just couldn't believe it; it was terrible sitting there until four o'clock watching people ignore us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the sale, though, Harley and I went to the Goodwill and sat outside with a couple small tables. She sold a ton of cookies, and quite a few people bought some of my crafts. However, I had to slash the prices pretty drastically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I dunno how I feel about it. I made about seventy five dollars the entire day including the ten bucks from the table. However, I think that's nowhere near worth it considering the money and time spent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I decided that I would open an Etsy shoppe to sell what is left (a LOT is left). I have about two boxes of stuff in my attic. I would post pictures, but I don't want to be disappointed if I don't end up making a store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Here is a list of some of the things I had:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-Rag Wreaths&lt;br /&gt;-Snowman Ornaments&lt;br /&gt;-Exploding Photo Albums&lt;br /&gt;-Maze Books&lt;br /&gt;-Snowman Paperweights&lt;br /&gt;-Rag Bracelets&lt;br /&gt;-Magnets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno, I can't think of anything else, sorry.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm off to play Farmville, haha. That game is awful and fantastic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-3747795570724789820?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/3747795570724789820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/snowy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/3747795570724789820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/3747795570724789820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/snowy.html' title='Snowy'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-2142816691735103732</id><published>2010-01-02T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T15:08:49.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/everyone009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i834.photobucket.com/albums/zz262/lenore_2010/everyone009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; One of my presents from Harley. =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_JGaJLcoI/AAAAAAAAAGI/kFZGD1QMsOA/s1600-h/shoes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422273588311585410" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_JGaJLcoI/AAAAAAAAAGI/kFZGD1QMsOA/s320/shoes.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Forget this.&lt;br /&gt;After getting all excited about my new camera and getting this blog started up, I found that I can't add my new pictures. The upload circle stops at nine o clock at every time. I tried putting them on photobucket, but it took about a half hour for 7 pictures. Then, I tried uploading from there and the pictures were huge. I cropped and everything, but this is taking too much time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to give up. I'm just too upset about this. It was supposed to be simple, but nothing ever works out for me. I get a new camera with high hopes, but it turns out to take great pictures but still be worthless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll do something else if I figure out and easier way to post pictures, who knows. Maybe I am overlooking something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;-UPDATE-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I think I spoke too rashly. I just need to take some time to update to photobucket, no big deal. It's quite easy to transfer after that, just time consuming.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-2142816691735103732?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/2142816691735103732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/2142816691735103732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/2142816691735103732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html' title='Well'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_JGaJLcoI/AAAAAAAAAGI/kFZGD1QMsOA/s72-c/shoes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-2841277780594926527</id><published>2010-01-01T18:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T15:02:56.347-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eighteen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Enough, enough already</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_QbI2GGSI/AAAAAAAAAGg/dvM06EE-2SM/s1600-h/tree+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422281641026787618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_QbI2GGSI/AAAAAAAAAGg/dvM06EE-2SM/s320/tree+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, Christmas is over. I did end up getting a new camera, which is excellent. Mostly I've just taken a few pictures of my room and other things like that. It's been too hectic around here to do much else. I will start soon, though, right after I get my room up to date for the new year. The Christmas/Birthday clutter is starting to get to me, and my closet is just jam packed with crap.&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, maybe I should post a few before and after pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;===============================================&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Okay, here's what I did since my last post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;Christmas Eve-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up really early, and made some peanut butter kiss cookies from scratch. My aunt usually makes them, but I was actually glad she didn't so that I could have a turn. The recipe I was using called for the peanut butter balls to be rolled in sugar before baking, but I decided to skip that step just to see what it would taste like. They weren't bad, if you ask me. I ended up making my usual brownies as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I finished up, we all went to my grandma's house as usual. Except, this year everything was so out of wack because we changed the times. I remember being really little and having to wait all day to open presents, and how agonizing that was. This year, my cousins pretty much lucked out. We went for dinner (which was pretty crappy, if you ask me) at noon. What kind of holiday is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presents were opened and games were finished by about three, and everyone was burned out by then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Christmas-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I set up the dining room this year, and I really liked it better. My mom usually just slaps the food on the table, no decorations or anything. I wanted it to be festive. Plus, this year I gave her some pretty placemats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_ObNxqjMI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/UF4zuSvCmlg/s1600-h/table.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422279443327126722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_ObNxqjMI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/UF4zuSvCmlg/s320/table.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took some pictures and just messed around with other stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_PF99MHqI/AAAAAAAAAGY/ZUOT4-TZZmw/s1600-h/table+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422280177814871714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_PF99MHqI/AAAAAAAAAGY/ZUOT4-TZZmw/s320/table+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for one incident, my grandparents were alright, I guess, and the day was kind of boring. I wasn't really sad or anything that this is my last one where I will be home full time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Incident:&lt;/em&gt; my cousin Carly came home for a few days to spend Christmas with her family. We ate and everything, and then she called about an hour after and said that she was sorry for being late. No one had any idea that she was coming over, but she said my grandma invited her. Without telling us, apparently. When "confronted" she acted like she had no idea what we were talking about. However, my cousin knew what time dinner was, so she had to have invited her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;My Birthday-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was not looking forward to my birthday at all. I was sad all day. Well, technically, the sadness started the day before since I don't go to bed until really late, till like 5 o'clock in the morning some days. I moped and moped, just laying in my bed like ten minutes after I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;My mom was sure I was cranky from lack of sleep, but no. Just melancholy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family and Harley and Rachel came over. The three of us did our Christmas exchange, and that made things a little better. I decided I was going to put all the money I recieved in the bank, because it's ridiculous how unprepared I am for. next. year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I filled out a insurance policy, which was also depressing. How am I old enough for this??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;One of my New Year's Resolutions is to keep up this blog for myself, so I will be updating with pictures and hopefully the rest of the things I said in my previous post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, for now, I am off to watch &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Primeval&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Yayy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-2841277780594926527?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/2841277780594926527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/enogh-enough-already.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/2841277780594926527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/2841277780594926527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2010/01/enogh-enough-already.html' title='Enough, enough already'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/Sz_QbI2GGSI/AAAAAAAAAGg/dvM06EE-2SM/s72-c/tree+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-4751404147383523622</id><published>2009-12-20T16:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T15:45:11.524-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='woah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Okay, okay, I have a problem. It seems like a serious one. I have not posted since summer, and I've become my own worst nightmare. So, since I am probably getting a nicer camera for Christmas this year, I have decided that I going to start up again. Hopefully I'll do better this time around, since I had like what? Six posts last time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't believe how quickly time has passed. Senior year is half over, and I haven't done anything at all on this site in a very, very long time. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... Christmas is only five days away. I can't say I'm excited, since it is pretty much my last one. The other day I was stting looking around at my room, and I could not believe that I won't be using it starting next fall. That's.. unbelievable. Well anyway, I loathe many members of my family, which is taking away any cheer I have. My sister and I already had our little "party", though. I made her a Joker pillow out of a tshirt I got at Hot Topic, and I bought her a Dexter shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That makes my birthday only eight days away. I can't grasp that, either. I guess it's even harder to imagine turning eighteen if you're constantly being treated like a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll end this with a list of things (hopefully) to come:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-a Dexter review&lt;br /&gt;-Craft Sale Details&lt;br /&gt;-General Recaps&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-4751404147383523622?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/4751404147383523622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/4751404147383523622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/4751404147383523622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-7587437809370077870</id><published>2009-06-28T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T13:53:54.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Painting Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Billy Mays is dead... =[. What a week. My world is shattered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got some weird looking shoes... I dunno, they look kinda old ladyish but I still like them. I love the color.. I've never had cranberry colored shoes before. They were cheap, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seven dollars.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkfUYoyKajI/AAAAAAAAAE4/SBvChoAN7n8/s1600-h/New+Shoes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352480201882888754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkfUYoyKajI/AAAAAAAAAE4/SBvChoAN7n8/s320/New+Shoes.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I painted my garage sale stuff. Keep in mind, I had never spray painted anything besides shoe boxes for projects at school, so.. I dunno, they don't look too bad to me, I guess. It was so hot, I was all sweaty just spraying away at a shelf. Lammee. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;love the design on this so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkfU4MNcHKI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ftY2Mw_JQdk/s1600-h/Painted+Shelf+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352480743968480418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkfU4MNcHKI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ftY2Mw_JQdk/s320/Painted+Shelf+2.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It looks like I did a crappier job in this picture... =[&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkfUzRpGXzI/AAAAAAAAAFA/b0uX35uOoAY/s1600-h/Painted+Shelf.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352480659527327538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkfUzRpGXzI/AAAAAAAAAFA/b0uX35uOoAY/s320/Painted+Shelf.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I also painted that ornament hanger thingy. I ran out of spray paint, though, so I have to fix some areas by hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Spotty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkfVkVWvjLI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/DnUkI_uX1vQ/s1600-h/ornament+hanger+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352481502337666226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkfVkVWvjLI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/DnUkI_uX1vQ/s320/ornament+hanger+2.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I watched The Uninvited... It totally sucked, though I like Emily Borwning for some odd unexplainable reason... I think it is her lips. Yeah. The original movie, A Tale of Two Sisters, was wayy better. The Dark Knight is on HBO now, and I feel compelled to watch it every time I flip and its on. That's both great and inconvenient at the same time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;"That was a very brave thing you did."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;"Trying to catch the light?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;"So you weren't protecting the van?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;"Why, who was in it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Ahh. Billyyy. Okay byye.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-7587437809370077870?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/7587437809370077870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/painting-stuff.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7587437809370077870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7587437809370077870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/painting-stuff.html' title='Painting Stuff'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkfUYoyKajI/AAAAAAAAAE4/SBvChoAN7n8/s72-c/New+Shoes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-7342058177748068605</id><published>2009-06-26T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T13:35:22.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>=]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;So. It's been a week since I posted last... it's so weird how that happens. What, do I have six posts? I definitely understand the not posting thing now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my last post, I guess I have been pretty busy. Camp meeting was last week at the church I go to, so that took up a lot of my time. I had to help with a few dinners and stuff. We also ran around a lot, going to garage sales and Target and Goodwill. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, on Monday, we went to Amish country, so that was cool. I always want to buy everything there.... We went to the cheese place, Heini's (lawll) that they have down there, which is the best. Free cheese samples are awesome. We've been going there for years, which is kinda weird to think about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home, we went to a Goodwill in Wooster, and this lady said that I was bedazzled, because of my awesome necklace. I got some shoes for way cheap. Here, the shoes cost about four dollars, which is lammee. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attempted to clean my room, and I rearranged a bunch of stuff (I took out my Cherished Teddies, haha =[ Sadd.) We're having a garage sale next week, so I'm getting rid of tons of crap, like childhood stuff and things like that. I've hung on to all that stuff for wayy too long, and all it is doing is sitting around in the hot attic, prolly melting (Nah, I wouldn't go that far). But I was melting when I hauled all the junk from the boiling attic to the basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love my shelf now, though. All the bears are gone.That shadow looks like a spider. Eww.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351761933695575586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkVHH7Rh5iI/AAAAAAAAAEo/bglELB-DCDg/s320/Rearranged+Shelf.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to price stuff. I think I'm way too cheap. Maybe I can get rid of all of it, then, though. I hate when everything is left over. The past couple times that happened, my mom just packed up all the stuff and sent it over to the Goodwill without even asking if I wanted to keep anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I found this ornament hanger at a garage sale for fifty cents. I think it is doomed to be painted black, because the ornament I want to put on it has gold on it. Gold and silver look ucky.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkVGuDovnyI/AAAAAAAAAEY/IYeLU8chYfk/s1600-h/Ornament+Hanger.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351761489263828770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkVGuDovnyI/AAAAAAAAAEY/IYeLU8chYfk/s320/Ornament+Hanger.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This shelf looks cooler in person, ha. I think its also going to suffer paint wrath.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkVG8HK5GmI/AAAAAAAAAEg/5uaniyZCi1w/s1600-h/New+Shelf.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351761730730531426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkVG8HK5GmI/AAAAAAAAAEg/5uaniyZCi1w/s320/New+Shelf.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;I got some records when I was in Amish country (they are on my shelf above, now), along with this awesome Beanie Baby. I remember when those were popular... we used to go to the flea market just for those. Pssh. What losers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkVHYETNMbI/AAAAAAAAAEw/-duSXk9rjIo/s1600-h/Bat.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351762210996433330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkVHYETNMbI/AAAAAAAAAEw/-duSXk9rjIo/s320/Bat.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I guess I am still a nerd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I watched a movie called Deadgirl. I'm disturbed about the fact that I wasn't disturbed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then, yesterday, I rediscovered Daniel Tosh, since I watched his show, Tosh.O. It was really really funny, which surprised me. I always browse Comedy Central trying to find good comedians, but most of them never stick out. That's real;y sad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Okayy I just lost my train of thought so byye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&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/9011336594470723143-7342058177748068605?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/7342058177748068605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7342058177748068605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7342058177748068605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='=]'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SkVHH7Rh5iI/AAAAAAAAAEo/bglELB-DCDg/s72-c/Rearranged+Shelf.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-1097396467919341824</id><published>2009-06-17T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T13:49:11.684-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blarghh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjlK0i5bLfI/AAAAAAAAAEI/193N5E1kTus/s1600-h/Tippie+6.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348388299060489714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjlK0i5bLfI/AAAAAAAAAEI/193N5E1kTus/s320/Tippie+6.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Goggles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I really can't believe that it is already Wednesday... That seems crazy. I wish this summer would just slow down. =[ I mean, it's been boring pretty much so far, but geez... it's still wayy better than school. It's been really weird temperature wise, too. It's not exactly hot, but it is still really muggy and gross. I wish it would hurry up and rain some, like its been threatening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On Monday, I spent the entire day looking for things to put in the garage sale that we are supposed to be holding next month. I felt so sad, too... most of the stuff I found for it are my old toys.. I know that they should have been gone a while ago, so I figured I would just do it and get it over with no, rip-off-the-band-aid style. Basically, I have four boxes of toys and three boxes of other crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I found another tshirt to decorate in my mom's pile of garage sale crap, but I can't think of anything to put on it. It seems like all I wanted to do was decorate stuff when I didn't have anything to actually decorate, but now that I have something I am bored with it already.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I painted some magnets. My mom gave them to me awhile ago, when she bought them from Avon. They had these stupid little air freshener things on the back of them, which sucked. The magnet was inside the freshey thing, so when I ripped them off, I didn't realize it at first. Now I have to scrounge up some more and glue them back to working order. The painting of them was unintentional: I had been painting something else and accidentaly flicked orange paint on one of the blue flower petals. I considered leaving it, but it bugged me enough to force me to paint all three of them. I dunno, I like the pink one, but the other ones just seem messed up to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjlWN8dcFKI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/KZzUBpu9jgs/s1600-h/Flower+magnet.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348400830047065250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjlWN8dcFKI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/KZzUBpu9jgs/s320/Flower+magnet.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I also remembered these books I had bought from Borders a while ago, maybe even around Christmas time. They are these big sketchbooks, and I only paid about three dollars for them, compared to their original price. I can't really remember how much they would have cost full price, but I know that I got a good deal on them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well anyway. I bought them with the intention of putting some of my drawings in them, but I ended up printing a bunch of my poems and pasting them into the book. I did it sort of sloppily, but I like how they look anyway. I stopped doing this soon after I bought them, so now I have maybe even thirty or more poems to put in. I thought about this the other day, and now it is all I think about. I hate being obsessive the way I am. It only happens some of the time, which makes it even more annoying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I watched Spectacular! again. Ha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can't think of anything else to say, so... Goodbye. =]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-1097396467919341824?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/1097396467919341824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-really-cant-believe-that-it-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1097396467919341824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1097396467919341824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-really-cant-believe-that-it-is.html' title='Blarghh'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjlK0i5bLfI/AAAAAAAAAEI/193N5E1kTus/s72-c/Tippie+6.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-8945758522408116936</id><published>2009-06-14T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T10:00:52.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjUqp7vMeqI/AAAAAAAAADY/GhclPzTxLGs/s1600-h/Nolan+Use+For+Blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347227032470977186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjUqp7vMeqI/AAAAAAAAADY/GhclPzTxLGs/s320/Nolan+Use+For+Blog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Look at that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;There is something wrong with me. My friend wanted to watch Spectacular! back in February, and I admit, I did, too. For reasons that I cannot seem to remember, I didn’t watch it. She did. For months now, she has been obsessed with Nolan and the like, and I pretty much stayed in denial the entire time, like I didn’t care about him at all. Sure, there were times that I didn’t care, but most of the time I did.&lt;br /&gt;My friend came over, and we watched Spectacular, and even then I sort of lied. Then we watched X Men 2, pretty much just for the tiny tiny role he held.&lt;br /&gt;I had tried to tell her about this but every time she thought I was mocking her, but yesterday she finally believed me. I dunno, as soon as I started to tell her, everything just got weird. I looked at a few pictures she had shown me, and it was suddenly like I was dying. I mean, I had liked Nolan before, just not like this. Not this serious. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So I feel pretty awful, both for lying about something like this, and because Nolan finally seriously got to me. I don't know how to even explain it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Why is he so brilliant?? This just makes me want to cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjUry2kjD6I/AAAAAAAAADg/2e45QemRiWI/s1600-h/I+dunno+49.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347228285214592930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjUry2kjD6I/AAAAAAAAADg/2e45QemRiWI/s320/I+dunno+49.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is the best bird for a quarter ever.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjUqMrXcc_I/AAAAAAAAADI/5fxC9Nj7v08/s1600-h/Bird+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347226529860187122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjUqMrXcc_I/AAAAAAAAADI/5fxC9Nj7v08/s320/Bird+2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I bought a hummingbird at Goodwill. He is awesome. I'm not sure if I should paint him black or not... I kind of like him gold. Plus, I would prolly screw him up somehow if I did.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjUqAcU1lxI/AAAAAAAAADA/TQkw1DBEB-o/s1600-h/Hummingbird+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347226319664289554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjUqAcU1lxI/AAAAAAAAADA/TQkw1DBEB-o/s320/Hummingbird+2.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/9011336594470723143-8945758522408116936?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/8945758522408116936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/look-at-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/8945758522408116936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/8945758522408116936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/look-at-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjUqp7vMeqI/AAAAAAAAADY/GhclPzTxLGs/s72-c/Nolan+Use+For+Blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-1678846269297994238</id><published>2009-06-13T19:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T10:05:24.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Stuff.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love shopping for crap to improve so much. I ripped up an old yucky t shirt the other day so I could make "wall art". Ahaha. I did a poor job, though I tried. I've been in love with bird decorations lately, so that is what I used for one of them. I also have red fabric that I need to iron and put on a fourth, but here are the first three. I dunno, I kind of like them. They were fun to make, anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;This is the first one... a bird!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347011588261131538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjRmtbgztRI/AAAAAAAAACg/EYXW2Nukzqw/s320/FB+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;This is the second:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjRnCavF_FI/AAAAAAAAACo/7MgfDYg-1vs/s1600-h/FF2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347011948829867090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjRnCavF_FI/AAAAAAAAACo/7MgfDYg-1vs/s320/FF2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;The third was the most fun to make.. I didn't have to follow a pattern, I could just do what I wanted with it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjRnqsVaX3I/AAAAAAAAACw/Oeu71KmTvZk/s1600-h/FM2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347012640748756850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjRnqsVaX3I/AAAAAAAAACw/Oeu71KmTvZk/s320/FM2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So... I went to Goodwill today after finishing with my ACT test (which sucked, by the way, thank you for asking). I didn't find much. I was going to buy these picture frames that I've been eyeing the last couple times I've been there.. but no. I did find a skirt there that is the same brand and size as two other skirts I got there a few months ago.. only it i this bright awesome green. That's still weird, though. I mean, I can't tell what is weirder; if someone bought them all, then took them to different goodwills, or if three people with the same size and style are getting rid of their junk at the same time. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My Christian Bale obsession has continued... I went to the library and looked for Empire of the Sun, but they did not possess it. So, instead I rented out Newsies and Little Women. I also watched the New World, and I am in the middle of Metroland. I requested everything else, like the lame dork that I am. Sigh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I also bought these jars, and my mom thinks that I am weird. She must think that I'm a little old lady, or something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjRqPYvJrsI/AAAAAAAAAC4/W9XpvBdjs2I/s1600-h/Glass+Jars+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347015470166421186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjRqPYvJrsI/AAAAAAAAAC4/W9XpvBdjs2I/s320/Glass+Jars+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Byee off to watch Pineapple Express, me thinks.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-1678846269297994238?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/1678846269297994238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/more-stuff.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1678846269297994238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/1678846269297994238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/more-stuff.html' title='More Stuff.'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjRmtbgztRI/AAAAAAAAACg/EYXW2Nukzqw/s72-c/FB+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-7954513170384721632</id><published>2009-06-11T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T14:31:27.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've always been annoyed by people who have blogs when they don't post anything for massive periods of time. Unfortunetly, I fall into this category, apparently. It's summer vacation, now, and my last post was sometime in April. =[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The summer has been just like any other. My job hunt has failed miserably, and my money stash is suffering as a result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Exceppttt...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I've seen a lot of excellent movies.&lt;br /&gt;I went to see Star Trek, which was pretty amazing. Then, I went to see Terminator Salvation, which was bloody brilliant (ha). I've always been a fan of the series, but Christian Bale is just....&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after seeing that masterpiece of explosions, I started over with the movies, since I couldn't remember much about them. I "discovered" MICHAEL BIEHN. Being pretty much a little, little kid when I first watched Terminator, I had never realized just how gorgeous he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Terminator, I've become obsessed with Christian Bale. I can't help it. He's just the picture of awesome. I'm a massive fan of Batman and the Dark Knight, The Prestige, etc., but... I had never really watched any of his older stuff. I found many of them on youtube, so that's how I have been spending nights. Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLIZkIxzkI/AAAAAAAAABw/1bvr08Wv5ZA/s1600-h/Christian+Bale+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346556049164979778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLIZkIxzkI/AAAAAAAAABw/1bvr08Wv5ZA/s320/Christian+Bale+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;I mean, just look at that picture up there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dare you to tell me that he isn't magnificent. =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been obsessed with decorating, recently. I've scoured Goodwill, numerous garage sales, and other various places for things to decorate my "future house" with. *Sighs*. I know that any sort of house is far off, but I can't help but hope. Soo, I've been filling my spare time with planning, painting, and drawing random stuff that I love but wish to improve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with the lack of posts, I discovered by going on Storywrite that I have been really slacking off with my writing. Usually, I would write a few poems a week, once a day sometimes. I hadn't been writing anything, but recently I have been getting spurts of excellent inspiration, which is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a fabric marker at Walmart a couple weeks ago, and I'm addicted to it. I've written the McFly logo on like everything available, which is pretty awesome.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Look!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLGHSPr8VI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HbIHIPqb3Ps/s1600-h/McFly+bag.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346553536101216594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLGHSPr8VI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HbIHIPqb3Ps/s320/McFly+bag.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff99;"&gt;And again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLH-VTKqzI/AAAAAAAAABo/SHzsoDwrUSs/s1600-h/m7.JPG"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346555581325552434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLH-VTKqzI/AAAAAAAAABo/SHzsoDwrUSs/s320/m7.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Before you go... look at this nasttyy and unrelated moth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLHUvHejYI/AAAAAAAAABg/ymUXZfN0jcQ/s1600-h/Moth.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346554866701340034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLHUvHejYI/AAAAAAAAABg/ymUXZfN0jcQ/s320/Moth.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Adioss.&lt;/em&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/9011336594470723143-7954513170384721632?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/7954513170384721632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7954513170384721632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7954513170384721632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/06/so.html' title='So.'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLIZkIxzkI/AAAAAAAAABw/1bvr08Wv5ZA/s72-c/Christian+Bale+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-6097104076316920649</id><published>2009-04-27T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T14:37:17.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;It is really hot, now. On Thursday, it was a little chilly, Friday it was hotter, then Saturday and Sunday just blew me away in their heat. Yesterday was family day or something. We went to the park, and had a picnic and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was no better in the heat department. I did get to spend several hours outside today during school, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently working on painting Joker nails for myself, hah. I'm stuck on what to do with my pinky nail, it's kind of too small for a face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;I got this at a garage sale the other day, and it was totally fugly. But it was free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;I painted it, trying to make it look better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLJh39_yxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ftCpQ9TWwrs/s1600-h/Heart+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346557291439049490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLJh39_yxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ftCpQ9TWwrs/s320/Heart+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I dunno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-6097104076316920649?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/6097104076316920649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/04/ugh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/6097104076316920649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/6097104076316920649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/04/ugh.html' title='Ugh'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLJh39_yxI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ftCpQ9TWwrs/s72-c/Heart+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9011336594470723143.post-7594523272086379027</id><published>2009-04-22T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T20:16:07.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally, Finally, Finally</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have comtemplating making a blog for quite a while now, but I finally decided to today, because I am not so satisfied with my creativity lately. I need &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been overloaded with homework lately (right now, actually, I am supposed to be working on some assignments, more specifically my Open Line), and I am looking for a job and worrying about my future (ha!), but today this seemed like it was way more important than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am wrong, and maybe, just maybe, I will end up living on the streets for making this post. But maybe not. Maybe this is just what I need to actually do something, to actually feel like I have accomplished something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I found a blue crocheted key at the school I go to. It was hanging off a tree limb, and there was a website attached to it. It took me until today, but I finally decided to check out the websites (thinking for some reason that there would be instructions on how to make my own).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, alas, that was not to be. There was something cooler instead. There was a picture of the key I now have in my possession, and it was called the Blue Key of Craftiness, and there were links to other keys and an intro. Someone at my school, I have no idea who, has been crocheting keys and leaving them around school for other people to find. That is one of the best things I have heard in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Behold, the key:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjKuB3E7uqI/AAAAAAAAABA/KPSjqoz81nQ/s1600-h/Blue+Key+of+Craftiness.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346527054629943970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjKuB3E7uqI/AAAAAAAAABA/KPSjqoz81nQ/s320/Blue+Key+of+Craftiness.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway. The paragraph underneath the picture of my key (aha my key?) said to do something creative after finding the key. So, I have made the decision to start writing poetry again (it's been way too long, dear words) and to begin to keep up on my cheapie, homemade (and cooler) version of a Wreck My Journal.&lt;br /&gt;I feel inspired. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've also been buying stuff for a kitchen. I have no idea where this desperate wanting for a house came from, but I don't think it is going to stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I got these things at a garage sale for like a quarter all together, which was cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLE9eP_fSI/AAAAAAAAABI/7QrAvM3XezQ/s1600-h/Flower+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346552268013403426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjLE9eP_fSI/AAAAAAAAABI/7QrAvM3XezQ/s320/Flower+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;They are crappy. I need to fix them up a little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(But, of course, I must focus now on a portion, at least, of my classwork.)&lt;br /&gt;Bye (no one)! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9011336594470723143-7594523272086379027?l=peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/feeds/7594523272086379027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/04/finally-finally-finally.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7594523272086379027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9011336594470723143/posts/default/7594523272086379027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peeloffthepageandsitnexttome.blogspot.com/2009/04/finally-finally-finally.html' title='Finally, Finally, Finally'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16273906425844921147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjL64ZAwq8I/AAAAAAAAACA/Od63qFTfDx4/S220/Bird+1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jppJdg7UlcE/SjKuB3E7uqI/AAAAAAAAABA/KPSjqoz81nQ/s72-c/Blue+Key+of+Craftiness.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
